I was further informed, that Don Eusebio was of Spanish descent, though a Mexican by birth; that in the veins of his daughters flowed only the Andalusian blood--the pure _sangre azul_. His was one of the _familias principales_ of Puebla. There was nothing in this knowledge to check my incipient admiration of Don Eusebio's daughter. Quite the contrary. As I had predicted, I was soon in the vortex of an impetuous passion; and without ever having spoken to her who inspired it! There was no chance to hold converse with her. We were permitted no correspondence with the _familias principales_, beyond the dry formalities which occasionally occurred in official intercourse. But this was confined to the men. The senoritas were closely kept within doors, and as jealously concealed from us as if every house had been a harem. My admiration was too earnest to be restrained by such trifling obstructions; and I succeeded in obtaining an occasional, though distant, view of her who had so interested me. My glances--given with all the fervour of a persistent passion--with all its audacity--could scarce be misconstrued. I had the vanity to think they were not; and that they were returned with looks that meant more than kindness. I was full of hope and joy. My love affair appeared to be progressing towards a favourable issue; when that change, already recorded, came over the inhabitants of Puebla--causing them to assume towards us the attitude of hostility. It is scarce necessary to say that the new state of things was not to my individual liking. My twilight saunterings had, of necessity, to be discontinued; and upon rare occasions, when I found a chance of resuming them, I no longer saw aught of Mercedes Villa-Senor! She, too, had no doubt been terrified into that hermitical retirement-- among the senoritas now universal. Before this terrible time came about, my passion had proceeded too far to be restrained by any ideas of danger. My hopes had grown in proportion; and stimulated by these, I lost no opportunity of stealing out of quarters, and seeking the Calle del Obispo. I was alike indifferent to danger in the streets, and the standing order to keep out of them. For a stray glance at her to whom I had surrendered my sword-knot, I would have given up my commission; and to obtain the former, almost daily did I risk losing the latter! It was all to no purpose. Mercedes was no more to be seen. Uncertainty about her soon became a torture; I could endure it no longer. I resolved to seek some mode of communication. How fortunate for lovers that their thoughts can be symbolised upon paper! I thought so as I indited a letter, and addressed it to the "Dona Mercedes Villa-Senor." How to get it conveyed to her, was a more difficult problem. There were men servants who came and went through the great gateway of the mansion. Which of them was the one least likely to betray me?