was something new to me; but death from the unerring aim of the ruffian seemed inevitable. At this very instant, while the glittering blade hung over me, I heard the report of a gun, and the guerilla fell backwards from his horse in the agonies of death; but so vengeful had been his purpose and so strong his arm, that the knife designed for me was buried deep in the shoulder of his generous steed. This, however, was only a reprieve, for others came pressing on, and no doubt we should have been sacrificed to the memory of their companion, but for a whole volley from about fifty men who had advanced from the out-post. The guerillas immediately wheeled round, and sought safety in flight. On joining the party who had thus snatched us from destruction, the first object that met my view was the man whom I had seen at the wine-house, and recognised as the attendant or chief man at the farm, and to him I was indebted for rescuing me from the party. I have already mentioned that he quitted the house directly after the guerillas, and leading his horse to a distance, in a contrary direction to them, he had there mounted and sought the British out-post; where giving information of our danger, the commanding officer instantly despatched a party for our protection. The attendant acted as their guide, and from his fusee it was that death was dealt to my opponent at the critical juncture, when my own life was trembling upon the verge of eternity. On reaching a place of safety, I told him that his expectations could not be complied with; but, from the recent service he had performed, I would make a proper representation to the commander-in-chief, and hoped to succeed. He then inquired for the bible and prayer book, which were given to him, as I had constantly carried them about me, under the hope of falling in with him. His gratitude for the gift I shall never forget; he pressed them to his heart, and the tears flowed down his furrowed cheek. He opened the bible and read these words, “Yet never saw I the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging their bread.” A sudden ejaculation of--“Oh, my father!” followed. It came with double force upon my heart. His father had been a holy man; but there was another parent, whose name he had been taught to lisp in early infancy, as “Our Father, which art in heaven;” and though his earthly sire could no longer pour the balm of consolation on his mind, yet HE whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, hath respect unto the lowly and heareth the contrite in heart. As soon as grief would give him utterance, he told me of his early days, and then the conversation turned upon his present situation. He had nothing to complain of as to treatment, but his soul still clung to the land of fond remembrances. He mentioned Mariqueta, and I had to ask some questions which respect for his sorrows had restrained. “She was well,” he said; “but the gayety of her heart had fled, and her chief pleasure was to sit in