In the most comfortable place beside the fire, in the only arm-chair the inn could boast of, sat a monk of the order of St. Dominick; the expression of his countenance was gay and serene, his forehead high, his small eyes glittered like diamonds, and there was a haughtiness in his air, notwithstanding a visible effort of constrained humility. Beside him was the Padrona, or mistress of the house, a woman rather advanced in years, but still alert, and exhibiting in her manner an energy quite masculine. She was occupied with preparing, with pious care, the supper of the holy father, and condescended, from time to time, to receive the assistance of the ventero, or innkeeper, who, like his worthy spouse, was too much occupied with the holy man, to pay the least attention to the new comers.

'At length one of the travellers, invited, no doubt, by the odor of the cook. ery, hazarded breaking the general silence. He was a tall man, thin and dry, about forty, but wearing his years remarkably well. His lofty forehead was shaded by curls of handsome black hair, and his open countenance was at times darkened by disquietude. He was dressed in a long, dark, travelling cloak, and wore a round hat, after the French fashion. His careless deportment indicated a lassitude of mind as well as of body; but when he drew his tall and well-proportioned figure to its full height, when his eye became animated, a sublime expression of energy suddenly succeeded those indications of depression.

Can we have supper soon?" said he to the hostess, in a gentle voice, somewhat marked by the sharp accent of Andalusia. "Your supper, cavallero? What matter's it to me," replied the inflexible matron, "you may eat what you have brought with you: here there is nothing for you." "But the fowl you are roasting.' "The fowl-O it is for the reverend father Francisco," interrupted the host; "would it not be unbecoming, I ask you, if lay travellers should be served before a holy servant of the church?"

This argument was unanswerable, and the poor traveller resumed his seat among his companions.

"Ha, ha! Don Antonio!" laughed out one of the latter, "you have again forgotten that you are no longer in your much-boasted France. But cheer up; I who like you, have not had time to forget among strangers the customs of my country, I have taken care of both of us, and you will have no reason to complain of my precaution:" at the same time, he drew forth in triumph from his bag two superb

wild ducks.

The new speaker was a young man, from twenty to twenty-five years of age, whose entire manner expressed a frank gaiety, and a sort of happy confidence in the future. His black hair escaped in confused ringlets from beneath a military cap, called a cachucha; the light bluish down of his beard corrected the rather feminine delicacy of his features, and his mouth, which seemed formed for smiles, was surmounted by a pair of little black mustachios. He wore a plain, but elegant travelling dress, and a light fowling-piece was suspended from his left shoulder. "Ho, there! resumed he, in a burlesque tone of command, "is there no charitable person here, to put these ducks to the fire for me?" at the same time, as if he had despaired of meeting with the desired assistance, he proceeded himself to fill the office of a cook. But his culinary efforts were interrupted by a little soft voice exclaiming behind him, "Jesus! cavallerito, how awkward you are, in spite of your white hands. Come, let it alone; I shall manage it for you."

"May God bless your large black eyes!" replied the youth, as, turning round, he beheld, by the flickering light of the embers, a young and pretty girl, in all the simplicity of costume of the shepherdesses of the Sierra Morena. Come, then, queen of my heart, be the protecting divinity of my pretty white hands, and in recompense, I swear as a Preux chevalier, to consecrate them to your service." Saying this, he had advanced a step towards the young girl, but she had disappeared with the lightness of a sylph.

'When supper had been finished by the customary plate of olives, the company remained at table for some time longer, discussing the goat-skin vessel of wine. Rojas took his guitar, that classical vade mecum of every young Spaniard; and, under a pretence of teaching the pretty daughter of mine host some new airs, made her sit down beside him, and guided her delicate fingers along the strings of the instrument. This had lasted for some time, when, on a sign from the master of

the house, the mother quickly exclaimed, "Get thee to bed, Pepita-quick! quick! -you ought to be ashamed of yourself; but first kiss the hand of the reverend father Francisco." The poor girl was much alarmed at this unexpected interruption; and half ashamed, half angry, hastened to obey the commands of the severe padrona. The monk held out his bony hand to her with a malicious smile; she kissed it hastily, and in an instant disappeared, not without casting a look at the young man. But Rojas was determined to revenge her. "Wait a moment, my pretty one," said he; "I wish to sing you an evening hymn:" and placing himself opposite the monk, he thundered forth the revolutionary song, known by the name of" Tragala." Thanks to the profound sleep which had seized on the guests around him, his imprudence had not the luckless consequences which might have been anticipated. The monk, not thinking himself the strongest, dissembled his anger; and the young madcap, suddenly appeased by his feigned moderation, rose from the table, flung himself on one of the blankets spread in different corners of the hall, wrapped himself in his cloak, and, in a moment, the silence of the inn was only interrupted by the snoring of the sleepers, and the motions of the horses and mules.'

The Don Antonio of the above sketch, is the principal personage of our author's work. He is an ecclesiastic, who after ten years of banishment for his attachment to the principles of the former revolution, returns to his country in search of tolerance and protection, under the prospects held out by this fresh struggle for independence. His high character gives him an influence with the liberal party; and the journeys and negociations which he undertakes in their service, and his restoration to his family, form the simple ground-work for the construcion of his graphic details.

The attack on the convoy, which forms the subject of the fourth sketch, is peculiary Spanish, and is drawn with liveliness and energy.

At this moment, the leading mules had entered a narrow defile, bordered on either side by precipitous rocks covered with brushwood. In front, a small hillock rose upon the view, from the summit of which the traveller discovers, with delight, the lofty walls and antique towers of Carmona, the termination of his adventurous journey. "Once up there," thought Ramon, "we are out of danger, and this hair-brained youngster, will be at liberty to joke at our expense-but would that we were there." As he ended this monologue, a horseman suddenly darted from the brushwood, and, planting himself in the centre of the road, cried out, in a voice of thunder," Halt!"-"We are in for it," murmured the mayoral. "The Lord have mercy on us! But, without appearing the least disconcerted, he coolly called out to the new comer, "What want you, cavalier? Can we be of service to you?""Ramon," replied the latter, "spare yourselves and us a useless trouble. You have with you some dozen ounces of gold, and the value of four hundred in goods. Count us down eight ounces, and draw a check for a hundred on your house at Seville. On these conditions you may pass unmolested. And as to the gentlemen who travel with you, I am sure they will honor us with a few light presents." This dialogue afforded leisure for examining the troublesome intruder. The symmetry of his form exhibited all the elegance of an Andalusian maijo. He was mounted on a noble horse, and his large war-saddle was covered with long housings of green cloth. A long gun glittered in his hand, and a smaller one, of that description denominated trabuco, was strapped to the pomnel of his saddle. His cartuchara, or cartridge-holder, was fastened to his waist by a leathern belt, and displayed the not very gratifying spectacle of a double row of cartridges, closely packed, and carefully kept ready for use, in small tin tubes.

Ramon did not appear much flattered by the friendly invitation of the handsome cavalier. However he replied, in the same tone, "You are too kind, cavalier; but surely you do not pretend to stop, by your single arm, some dozen old Castilians. I am no great lover of battles-but then we must have proof that we may surren

der without disgrace. Show us that we may do so, and I promise you that, on our side, not a shot shall be fired." He had not finished speaking, when Rojas, rendered impatient by this conference, discharged his piece at the summoner, but without effect.

"Curse your precipitation?" cried the mayoral; "but, by the holy virgin of Covodanza, the die is cast. Come, my sons, let us defend ourselves as we may."

The cavalier wheeled about his horse, saying, in a tone of irony, " In faith, a fine attempt :-but now, Carajo, I shall teach you to play with the seven sons of Ecija."-He darted off at full gallop, checked his steed a hundred paces further on, and, standing in his stirrups, to take deliberate aim, discharged his long gun. Rojas fell, uttering a curse. The ball had broken his thigh. At the same instant several other shots were discharged, and four cavaliers darted forth from the brushwood. Two muleteers had fallen by this first discharge. The firing then commenced on both sides, but the odds were unequal. In a few minutes several inuleteers were disabled, some killed, and others more or less dangerously wounded. The mules which had been struck, became a new species of embarrassment to them-rushing in confusion, and, casting off their burthens, rolling in the dust. One of the banditti then advanced anew. "Holloa! cried he:-"In the name of all the devils, let whoever values life throw down his arms, and lie flat upon the ground."

Antonio alone-whether it was that he had not comprehended the injunctions of the victor, or whether he looked upon it as a ruse-or whether it was that he was carried away by a warlike ardor-he alone remained upright; and seizing the gun of one of his wounded companions, discharged it at the bandit. The horse of the latter fell dead upon the spot. A cry of rage burst from the brigands, and they all rushed upon the unfortunate Antonio, who too late, repented of his fatal folly. Already the dismounted cavalier, more furious than the rest, had levelled his piece at his breast, and was on the point of firing, when the cavalier, who had stopped the convoy, cried out," Give him time to say his prayers, Pedro. Don't you see he is an ecclesiastic? At these words, the long gun of Pedro was gently inclined. "Let him pray, then, quickly—the dog," said he. "Carajo, he has killed the best steed that Spain has produced since the time of Cid Babieca. Were he the Pope himself, he must pay for it with his life."

In this critical situation, his life is saved by the interposition of one of the brigands, whom he recognizes as his cousin, and who prepares to give battle, in his defence, to the inflexible Pedro. On a sudden a shout was heard

In the name of the Constitution, and of the King, surrender !-Long live Riego!-Follow, cavalry!"'

From behind the olives, a party of horsemen debouched upon the road. The suddenness of the attack so disconcerts the brigands, that they are routed, and most of them slain. Pedro, left without his horse, takes refuge in a ruined cottage, and defends himself furiously to the last, but is slain by a sabre-blow from the young Marquis of Penaflores, the leader of the party, who had so opportunely arrived to the deliverance of the convoy. From the time in which he was surprised by the banditti, at one of his country seats, and obliged to fly, almost naked, from the burning ruins of his house, he had been the scourge of the brigands, in conformity with an oath he had taken to exterminate them.

The wildness of passion, and almost frantic energy of grief, with which the tidings of the death of Pedro, are received by the daughter of Eusebio, the smuggler, whose cortejo, or lover, he was, is no less striking, and exhibitive of the fierce flashes of daring recklessness which,

under the circumstances of great natural excitement, break from the country women of the maid of Saragossa. After describing the festivities of the young of both sexes, who had assembled to celebrate the birthday of the Luciente (or the brilliant), our author proceeds thus:—

'But at this moment a young girl rushed into the midst of the assembly, pale and dishevelled, and uttering cries of despair. Her original costume, and her graceful deportment, partaking of a kind of masculine forwardness, bespoke her at once to be a perfect specimen of the Andalusian maija. "Where is he," cried she; "where is the man who brought this news?" and approaching Jose, she demanded, with a trembling voice, but with looks of fire, "Pitiful wretch! is it true that my Pedro has been slain?"-"It is but too true," replied the brigand, lowering his head. She then gave way to the most violent grief, tearing her hair, disfiguring her face and breast, invoking the saints, and blaspheming them in the next breath, and calling upon death.

"The devil has taken possession of La Luciente," exclaimed the terrified bystanders; and each hurried to take refuge as near as possible to the crucifix placed above the door of the old smuggler, while they accompanied each blasphemy of the unfortunate mistress of Pedro with signs of the cross, and sprinklings of holy water. At length, pushing with impetuosity through the terrified crowd, she again confronted Jose, and said, "Tell me, wretch, how did my Pedro meet his end?"-"In the name of the Holy Virgin of Fuensanta, do you think, young woman, that I had time to examine? I was but too lucky in escaping myself, thank God for it!"-" Thank God! and you thank God, base coward that you are!" replied La Luciente, approaching still nearer to the unhappy fugitive, while her eyes flashed fury and contempt. You thank God for being enabled to run away. But did Pedro Gomez fly when you were in the chapel at Ecija, when the priests had already begun to sing the prayers of the dead for you, did he then spare his life to effect your deliverance! and is it you, that thank God for having had time to fly while they were slaughtering him?" She advanced a step nearer to Jose, and raising her clenched fist to his face, continued, "If you were a man, would you have abandoned my Pedro in the hour of danger! if you were a man, you would know how he perished; if you were a man, would you be sitting there in the corner like an old cripple?—but why waste breath on such a being!

"Jose had, by an involuntary movement, grasped his dagger; but he suddenly restrained himself, and putting aside the menacing arm of the girl, said with a forced laugh, "White hands wound not; but thank the Holy Virgin, muchacha (young girl), that Pedro was thy cortejo, otherwise

Two new comers here entered the court; one of them recognised Jose"There he is," cried he; "the poor girl knows all."-" Esteban Lara and Christoval Moreno," exclaimed at the same time several voices.

"Christoval Moreno! Christoval, the partner of the flight of Jose!" immediately resumed the frantic girl, quitting Jose to approach Christoval. "And you too, doubtless, you had not time to mark how my Pedro perished! and you, too, could abandon him! You should have hid yourself in a convent, yes, in a convent of nuns, effeminate as you are! At the same time she pushed him from her with force. The astonished Christoval gazed in pity on the unhappy girl, then disengaging her right hand from his ample cloak, he held it out to her;— "Young girl, mark you that blood? It is the blood of the murderer of Pedro Gomez! The energetic motion of Christoval quelled the fury of the despairing Luciente. She drew back, and was silent.'

The murder of the Marquis of Penaflores takes place at the fair of Mairena, which is celebrated in Spain. It is a little village, four leagues distant from Seville, which for three or four days attracts crowds of people, intent on business or pleasure, from all quarters of the kingdom. The diversity of costumes and idioms, the magnificence of the rich merchants, the simple and picturesque manners of the inhabitants, of some of the more remote provinces, the numbers of the young and beautiful

of both sexes, all concur in making the fair of Mairena a scene of the greatest liveliness and animation, and are particularly worthy of observation. It is here sketched with truth and vivacity; and the grouping of well-defined figures and characters, with the different political biasses by which they are actuated, exhibited in their dialogue, place the country and the people immediately before our eyes. After describing the scene of the fair, with the most prominent characteristics of the latter, the long array of mules, and of superb Andalusian horses, the paseo, frequented by crowds of the idle and the delighters in news, whose conversation is broken by the monotonous cries of the aguadores, or watercarriers, the arena for the bull-fight, where proudly stalk the torreros and matadores, our author proceeds to individualize, and presents us with the minor details with graphic felicity.

At the end of the esplanade, in a little circular enclosure, shaded by orange. trees mingled with cactus and aloes, was erected a large and elegant tent. Be neath its light roof of straw, supported by a few slender poles of aloe, were arranged a number of small low tables, surrounded by groups busied in drinking or gaming. Some were sending round elegantly-shaped earthen vessels wreathed with flowers, containing lemonade or wine; others were sipping chocolate, the refreshing sorbet, or that iced beverage which they call arucarillo. At the upper extremity stood a long counter, laden with sweetmeats of every description, and flanked on either side by piles of little barrels, filled with different sorts of liqueurs. Close to it might be observed a kind of side-board, not as the other, fur nished with eatables, but with little articles of jewelry, and silk mercery, such as rings, fans, reticules, ribands, &c. indicating that the tent served for a double purpose; and in the corners of the vast interior were heaped together numberless goat-skins consecrated to the joyous juice of the grape. But of the crowd that thronged the interior of the tavern, many seemed to have been attracted thither by other motives besides a wish to drink or to game. Several followed with their eyes a young girl, who ran from table to table with the most piquant petulance of manner. Her complexion, which was darker than the ordinary tint of Andalusia, the oriental expression of her features, her large black eyes, full of an uncommon mixture of boldness and candor, easily pointed her out as one of those Spanish gipsies, or gitanas, the original type of whom has been preserved entire through so many ages. A light gauze veil rolled about her head, contrasted strongly with her almost African complexion, and a short tunic of the same color completed her slender toilet. Her naked arms and legs were surcharged with rings and bracelets, as she glided like a fantastic sprite through the midst of the joyous parties, answering with gaiety and malicious wit, the jokes and compliments of the young men.

The conversation was interrupted by a great movement, which took place among the groups of drinkers. Each rose from the table to run to the door. Antonio and his friends having done the same, perceived a superb horse contending with his rider, vaulting, plunging, and lashing, without in the least discomposing the gravity of the latter, who seemed to be trying him previous to purchase. Bets were exchanged for and against the chances of the cavalier's preserving his seat, but presently all doubt on the subject was removed, and the mettlesome steed, rendered humble and obedient, ceased to struggle against the skilful hand that held the reins.

'Don Bernardo Marti de Valencia! cried out at once several voices, and the eagerness seemed to redouble, each person wishing to see him closer, and giving way to him with deference, when he approached the tent.

The object of so much attention was a tall man, with bushy eyebrows, having dismounted, features singularly marked with energy, auburn hair, and a wrinkled and sunburnt forehead. His dress partook of the city and the country. He wore a large hat of coarse spun stuff, with large flaps, and his dress consisted of a round jacket of blue velvet. His suite was composed of several Valencians,