The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 5, May, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 5, May, 1862: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
'The unknown made no reply. I therefore stepped back and drew out my
revolver. Dialogues carried on by knives and fire-arms are by no means
of rare occurrence at mid-night in the streets of Mexico; but I was
anxious, ere proceeding to extremities, to have a good look at my
antagonist. Although the Cathedral Square was illumined by a magnificent
moonlight, still I could not succeed. His hat was forced down over his
brow; his ample cloak was raised, and the folds covered the lower
portion of his face entirely. I could distinguish only a pair of glaring
eyes, and also discover that his long hair, which nearly reached his
shoulders, was almost perfectly white.
'The contemptuous silence and disdainful listlessness of my cloaked
adversary tended rather to enrage than calm me; so, with my revolver in
full view, and my arm stretched forth, I advanced toward him.
''I have already once demanded who you are, and you have not seen fit to
answer me. As I intend entering this house, and can not do so in safety,
since you block my passage, and may have a dagger hidden beneath your
cloak, I warn you, unless you clear the way, I shall be obliged to
proceed to violent means to enforce my demand.'
'Whether the unknown was duly impressed with wholesome prudence, by the
tone of my voice and the sight of my pistol; whether, finding he had
woke up the wrong customer, he determined to change his tactics; or
whether he had no sinister motives, I could not then determine; suffice
it to say, he evacuated the disputed territory, and with a measured and
majestic step, moved away some eight or ten paces, reminding me of a
stage bandit, in some Bowery melodrama.
'Keeping my face toward him, and letting no movement of his body escape
me, I knocked loudly at the door, and in a minute more Donna Lopez
herself opened it, and I entered.
'Mexican houses all are provided with two doors, and my hostess and I
had not crossed the vestibule leading to the inner one, when the knocker
fell on the outer door, with a force that fairly startled the obese
Teresa.
''Holy Virgin!' exclaimed she, 'who can be there at this hour? But
angels defend us, why, Señor, have you your pistol in your hand?'
'In a few words, I explained to her the adventure which had befallen me
at the door; but ere I had fairly ended, the door shook with the
increased violence with which the knocker now fell upon it. I rushed
forward to open it.
''For mercy's sake, Señor, be prudent; do not open it,' said my
terrified hostess, 'wait--wait, I will go myself.'
'Poor Donna Teresa, overpowered by fear, was slower than even was her
custom, in obeying the impetuous summons, and as she reached the door,
it shook for the third time beneath the rapid blows of the knocker.
'Who is there?' said she, in a faltering tone, opening a little slide
which was so protected by bars and cross-bars as to prevent the
intrusion of a dagger or even the muzzle of a pistol; 'who is there?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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