n, like a grove of thick timber on the plain, with a

gateway in front and the cupolas, towers, and mira- rising nl)ove the trees, all dark, as if surremi' ly t<> the nipht. The thought that it was no i-r open to him to ride through the streets, recog- ! by every one, great and little, as he used to do evening on his way to play monte in the posada of the Mexican Domingo; or to sit in the place of honor, ling to songs and looking at dances, made it ap- pear to him as a town that had no existence. For a long time he gazed on, then let the parted rs spring back, and crossing over to the other side of the fort, surveyed the vaster emptiness of the great gulf. The Isabels stood out heavily upon the narrow- ing long band of red in the west, which gleamed low between their black shapes; and the capataz thought of Ibcoud alone there with the treasure. That man was nly one who cared whether he fell into the hands of the Monterists or not, the capataz reflected bitterly. And that merely would be an anxiety for his own sake. > the rest, they neither knew nor cared. What he had heard Giorgio Viola say once was very true. Kind's, ministers, aristocrats, the rich in general, kept the people in poverty and subjection; they kept them as they kept dogs, to fight and hunt for their service. The darkness of the sky had descended to the line of the horizon, enveloping the whole gulf, the islets, and the lover of Antonia, alone with the treasure on the t Isabel. The capataz of the cargadores, turning his back on these things invisible and existing, sat down and t>ok his face between his fists. He felt the pirn h

of poverty for the first time in his life. To find him-