Shortly after leaving the village they met an Indian woman coming from the direction of the city, driving an ass. This woman informed the sisters that there had been a severe skirmish near the garita between the guerillus and the guard, in which the former had been defeated and scattered. The guard had got information by some means of the intended attack, and had sent to Puebla for a reinforcement of mounted men, which had arrived just in time and by a circuitous route, and had attacked the guerillus in the rear, so that only a few of them escaped from either death or capture. The sisters had scarcely bid adieu to the Indian woman, when on reaching a turn in the road they came upon one of the guerillus, seated upon a stone. A handkerchief was bound around his head—his face, pale and haggard, was spotted with blood, and there was a look of wild revenge in his eye as he recognized the approach of the two girls. They were at first alarmed on perceiving whom they had encountered, for it was Pepe who was before them, but when they saw that the guerilla was wounded, and apparently suffering, in the true spirit of womanly compassion both the young girls ran up to him and inquired what they could do to assist him. This appeared for a moment to soften the bitter spirit of the wounded man, and in a manner of more tenderness than he usually exhibited, he requested one of them to bring him a draught of water, while the other rebound the handkerchief upon his wound. The elder sister immediately ran to fulfill his request, while Dolores remained alone with the guerilla. She unbound the handkerchief with tender care, and had commenced readjusting it, when the sudden trampling of horses’ hoofs was heard, and before the wounded man had time to escape, half a dozen rangers came galloping up the road. The guerilla had seized his carbine, and was making for the chapparal, when one of his pursuers called at him to halt and they would spare him. Seeing the impossibility of escape, the man turned suddenly round and doggedly approached the party of rangers, who had halted upon the road. At this moment Remedios returned, and recognizing one of the rangers, with an exclamation of delight called out— “Don Santiago!” “Ha!” cried the guerilla, “it is he!” And throwing up his carbine he fired at the young ranger, who had leaped from his horse, and was approaching the girl. The ball took effect, passing through the fleshy part of the ranger’s arm. The shock, brought him to the ground, and the wild laugh of the guerilla told that he believed his vengeance had been complete. The quick successive reports of half a dozen rifles for a moment drowned this laugh, and when they ceased it was heard no more. He that had uttered it lay by the road a bleeding corpse. * * * * * LINES TO MRS. G. R. GRAHAM. BY R. T. CONRAD.