"What is it, my dear L----? A quarrel? A duel?" "No! No! nothing of the sort. Come! come! come! I will show you a sight that will make a wolf of you. Haste! For God's sake, haste!" I hurried on my clothes. "Bring your arms!" cried L----, "you may require them." I buckled on my sword and pistol-belt, and followed hastily into the street. We ran down the Calle Correo toward the Alameda. It was the road to the Convent of San Francisco, where our regiment had quartered for the night. As yet I knew not for what I was going. Could the enemy have attacked us? No--all was quiet. The people were in their beds. What could it be? L---- had not, and would not explain; but to my inquiries, continually cried, "Haste--come on!" We reached the convent, and, hastily passing the guard, made for the quarters occupied by my friend. As we entered the room--a large one--I saw five or six females, with about a dozen men, soldiers and officers. All were excited by some unusual occurrence. The females were Mexicans, and their heads were muffled in their rebosos. Some were weeping aloud, others talking in strains of lamentation. Among them I distinguished the face of my friend's betrothed. "Dearest Rafaela!" cried L----, throwing his arms around her--"it is my friend. Here, Henry, look here! look at this!" As he spoke, he raised the reboso, and gently drew back her long black hair. I saw blood upon her cheek and shoulders! I looked more closely. It flowed from her ears. "Her ears! _O God! they have been cut off!_" "Ay, ay," cried L----, hoarsely; and dropping the dark tresses, again threw his arms around the girl, and kissed away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks--while uttering expressions of endearment and consolation. I turned to the other females; they were all similarly mutilated; some of them even worse, for their foreheads, where the U.S. had been freshly burned upon them, were red and swollen. Excepting Rafaela, they were all of the "poblana" class--the laundresses--the mistresses of the soldiers. The surgeon was in attendance, and in a short time all was done that could be done for wounds like these. "Come!" cried L----, addressing those around him, "we are wasting time, and that is precious; it is near midnight. The horses will be ready by this, and the rest will be waiting; come, Henry, you will go? You will stand by us?" "I will, but what do you intend?" "Do not ask us, my friend, you will see presently." "Think, my dear L----," said I in a whisper, "do not act rashly."