As we progressed, we met a number of well-dressed people, of both sexes, who, seeing that we were strangers, bowed respectfully to us as we passed. Evidences of comfort, not to say elegance, now began to appear, and through an occasional open door we caught glimpses of sofas and easy chairs, and beds which a Sybarite might envy. Occasionally there were niches in the walls of the houses, in which were placed crosses, covered with faded flowers; in some instances the crosses were simply fastened to the walls, or planted at the corners of the streets. Advancing further, we found ourselves in the shadow of a large and massive stone building, with terraces, domes, and towers, half Moresque, and altogether an architectural incongruity. It appeared to be very ancient, and I stopped Pedro, who strode ahead with the gait of a conquering hero, to inquire what building it might be. He said it was the ancient and now abandoned convent of San Francisco, and showed us the gratings through which its former inmates had intercourse with the world, and pointed out the wooden cross in front, made of cedar from Lebanon. I do not know how long Pedro would have run on, had I not cut his story short, by saying I would hear the rest to-morrow. Just then a party of soldiers defiled across the street in front of us. They were bare-footed, and wore white pantaloons and jackets, with funny little, black caps, banded with metal, and having little, round, red cockades stuck saucily in front. A dashing young officer rode at their head, who lifted his hat gracefully to us. It was a scouting party just coming in. We followed them with our eyes down the street, and saw that sentinels were stationed at the corners, but two squares distant, and that the streets near the plaza were barricaded with adobes and timbers, with a single embrasure in the centre, through which a cannon looked grimly towards us. We now observed that soldiers were stationed on the walls of the convent, and in the towers of the parochial church, which had just come in view. It was evident that the government and military were on the alert, and prepared for any emergency. We found the streets more animated, and the houses better built, as we approached the centre of the town; women were moving hither and thither with trays, vegetables, bottles, and a hundred other commodities on their heads, and babies on their hips, and men with slouched hats, and breeches turned up to their knees, bare-footed, or wearing sandals, and carrying a large machete in their hands, were driving meek-looking horses, bearing loads, through the streets before them, or else with a long, iron-pointed pole, pricking on little compact oxen, fastened by the horns to long, heavy, awkward carts, with solid wheels cut from the mahogany tree. Amongst these flitted now and then a priest, with his black robe, preposterous bell-crowned, fur hat, and gaudy umbrella. There were quiet señoritas,