The table was abundantly supplied with lahua, or thick soup made of the flour of maize boiled with meat, with puchero, or olla podrida, and with pepian; at regular distances there were bottles of mezcal, and decanters of water. At a sign from the hacendero the repast commenced. The storm, which had threatened for some time past, now broke forth with fury. The rain fell in torrents; at every second vivid flashes of lightning dimmed the lights of the hall, preceding awful claps of thunder. Towards the end of the repast, the hurricane acquired such violence, that the tumult of the conspiring elements drowned the hum of conversation. The thunder peals clashed with frightful force, a whirlwind filled the hall, after dashing in a window, and extinguished all the lights; the assembly crossed themselves with terror. At that moment, the bell placed at the gate of the hacienda resounded with a convulsive noise, and a voice, which had nothing human in it, cried twice distinctly,-- "Help! help!" "Sangre de Cristo!" Don Ramón cried, as he rushed out of the hall, "somebody is being murdered on the plain." Two pistol shots resounded at almost the same moment, a cry of agony rung through the air, and all relapsed into sinister darkness. All at once, a pale flash of lightning furrowed the obscurity, the thunder burst with a horrible crash, and Don Ramón reappeared in the hall, bearing a fainting man in his arms. The stranger was placed in a seat, and all crowded round him. There was nothing extraordinary in either the countenance or the appearance of this man, and yet, on perceiving him, Rafaël, the eldest son of Don Ramón, could not repress a gesture of terror, and his face became lividly pale. "O!" he murmured, in a low voice, "it is the juez de letras!" It was, indeed, the worthy judge, whom we saw leave Hermosillo with such a brilliant equipage. His long hair, soaked with rain, fell upon his breast, his clothes were in disorder, spotted with blood, and torn in many places. His right hand convulsively clasped the stock of a discharged pistol. Don Ramón had likewise recognized the juez de letras, and had unconsciously darted a glance at his son, which the latter could not support. Thanks to the intelligent care that was bestowed upon him by Doña Jesuita and her women, he breathed a deep sigh, opened his haggard eyes, which he rolled round upon the assembly, without at first seeing anything, and by degrees recovered his senses. All at once a deep flush covered his brow, which had been so pale a minute before, and his eye sparkled. Directing a look towards Don Rafaël which nailed him to the floor, a prey to invincible terror, he rose painfully, and advancing towards the young man, who saw his approach without daring to seek to avoid him, he placed his hand roughly on his shoulder, and turning towards the peons, who were terrified at this strange scene, of which they comprehended nothing, he said solemnly,--