Pate tied his mule to a tree, and, walking aside from the road, seated himself on the anchor and began to meditate. "Here," said he, in a soliloquy, "once stood Pizarro the Conqueror. No daring robber, animated by the sordid love of gold, was that great man. He came to destroy the pagan superstitions of a benighted land, and to extend the blessings of civilization over an entire continent." As Pate uttered these words, his guardian angel, who was anxiously hovering over him, wanted to warn him of his danger, but was unable to do so. A man of savage aspect had crept from a thicket in his rear, and, with a catlike step, was cautiously advancing, having a heavy club raised in readiness to strike. "In those days," said Pate, "all was darkness and barbarism; but now, the benign influences of----" The club descended. Pate beheld a whole constellation, and several planets at mid-day, and sank senseless to the earth. When Pate opened his eyes it was late in the afternoon. Flocks of parrots were fluttering around him, and multitudes of monkeys were chattering and nimbly leaping among the boughs of the trees. He arose from the greensward with a bad headache, and discovered that he had been robbed. His money was gone, and his mule had disappeared. Without a dollar, he was in a strange land and thousands of miles from home. He staggered on until he reached Cruces, where he entered a public house kept by an American, to whom he related his misfortunes. The man had just lost his bar-keeper, and employed M. T. Pate to wait upon his customers until he could earn money enough to pay his passage to the United States. And here he was found by Wiggins and his companions washing a bottle. CHAPTER XLVII. Wiggins and his friends furnished the unfortunate Pate with pecuniary means, and he accompanied them to Chagres and embarked for New York, where in due time they arrived, and immediately took passage on the Southern train. About a week after his arrival in Mapleton, Pate received a visit from the father of the fair Juliet, who informed him that his daughter, the wife of Romeo, had discovered that there had been a misapprehension on her part in regard to Pate's conduct. "There has been a sad mistake," said Mr. Singleton. "You honestly believed that my daughter had beaten you, and did not intend to slander her when you so asserted." "She did beat me, sir," said Pate, "and most barbarously. She knocked me down with her fist and then broke my arm." "You thought so," said Mr. Singleton; "but it was a mistake." "How could it be a mistake?" cried Pate. "Did I not feel the blow from her fist? Did I not see her standing over me, kicking me with her foot and beating me with a terrible club? Was not my arm broken? Did I not lie in bed for weeks? And then to sue me! And now I am a ruined man! I have not a dollar in the world!" And the big tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of his destitute condition.