The manoeuvre had been executed with more than ordinary caution. It was easy to see they were lovers _without leave_. Ah! too well could I comprehend the clandestine act! Still standing concealed within the shadow of the portal, I watched Francisco deciphering, or rather devouring, the note. How I envied him those moments of bliss! The words traced upon the tiny sheet must be sweet to him, as the sight was bitter to me. His face was directly under the lamplight. I could see it was one that woman might well love, and man be jealous of. No wonder he had won the heart of Don Eusebio's daughter! He was not long in making himself acquainted with the contents of the epistle. Of course they caused him joy. I could trace it in the pleased expression that made itself manifest in every line of his countenance. Could I have seen my own, I might have looked upon a sad contrast! The reading came to a close. He folded the note, and with care--as though intending it to be tenderly kept. It disappeared under his cloak; the cloak was drawn closer around him; a fond parting look cast up to the place from which he had received the sweet missive; and then, turning along the pavement, he passed smilingly away. I followed him. I can scarce tell why I did so. My first steps were altogether mechanical--without thought or motive. It might have been an instinct--a fascination--such as often attracts the victim to the very danger it should avoid. Prudence--experience, had I consulted it--would both have said to me: "Go the other way. Go, and forget her! Him too--all that has happened. 'Tis not yet too late. You are but upon the edge of the Scylla of passion. You may still shun it. Retire, and save yourself from its Charybdis!" Prudence and experience--what is either--what are both in the balance against beauty? What were they when weighed against the charms of that Mexican maiden? Even the slight I had experienced could not turn the scale in their favour! It only maddened me to know more; and perhaps it was this that carried me along the pavement, on the footsteps of Francisco. If not entertained at first, a design soon shaped itself--a sort of morbid motive. I became curious to ascertain the condition of the man who had supplanted me; or whom I had been myself endeavouring to supplant with such slight success. He had the air of a gentleman, and the bearing of a true _militario_--a type I had more than once met with in the land of Anahuac--so long a prey to the rule of the sabre. There was nothing particularly martial about his habiliments.