urgently requesting some official to return with my messenger. I took a chair beside the bed, while Donna Teresa knelt in the adjoining room, and prayed and sobbed with much fervor. In a short while, Arthur rallied from the stupor into which he had fallen. His features became calm, his breathing regular though feeble, and the tranquil, almost happy, expression of his eye made me for a time half doubt the fearful prediction of the physician.
''Do you feel better?' I inquired.
''Much much; I am in no pain.'
''Let us hope, then, for the best. I will send for another doctor.'
''No, that would be useless. My lower extremities are swelling, and I can feel the hand of death clutching at my vitals. The doctor was right; death is not racking me with torture, it is gently embracing me. But I want your assistance; sit down.'
'I resumed my seat, and Arthur continued, in a feeble tone, but perfectly calm:
''How mean a thing is life! Good God! so mean, that at this moment I can not explain to my own soul why man should cling to it. What do we meet during our short career? Deceit, hypocrisy, and treachery. Ah! death reveals the hollowness of life.'
''My dear friend, you are exhausting yourself. Did you not say you wanted my assistance? Rely on my zeal, my fidelity, and my discretion.'
''Rely on you! How can I tell? You are only a man; perhaps avaricious and treacherous as your fellow-mortals. No matter; though you should forswear yourself; I, at least, will do what is right. Feel beneath my pillow, there is a key; take it, open my desk. In the small drawer on the left is a package of letters. Have you them? Good. Next to that there is a sealed letter. Now, read aloud the direction on each.'
''Papers to be burnt after my death,' said I, obeying his injunction.
''Well, what do you intend doing with them?'
''Can you for one moment doubt?' I replied.
'What if I should tell you they contain the entire secret of my opal-mine!'
'I made no reply; but struck a match against the wall, and setting them on fire, resumed my seat.
''I could hardly have believed it; but you still have Pepito; from him you hope to learn the secret,' said the dying man.
''Shall I bind myself by an oath not to seek him?'
''No; I leave you at liberty. Act as you think best. I burned those papers because they were bought with blood, for no other reason.'
''Bought with blood?' I exclaimed.
''Yes; ten months ago, General Ramiro died at New-Orleans, by poison—poison administered by Adéle. Do you wonder life has lost all charm for me? Oh! life is the bitterness, not death.'
'His voice momently grew fainter. I leaned closer, to catch his fading tones, till he ceased to speak. I gazed intently at his glassy eyes; the lids closed for a moment, then partially opened, the jaw fell, and he was no more.'
'I know not how long I had stood beside his lifeless body, pondering over the uncertainty of life, and the mystery of death, and the conflicting presentiments he had uttered: that he should live to achieve success, yet die without again seeing her who had lured him to his wretched end, when the door of the chamber suddenly opened, and five or six dragoons entered, accompanied by an officer in undress uniform.
''What! you here, General?' I exclaimed.
''Why not?' was the cool reply, 'I am in search of a deserter named Pepito, who, I was informed, was concealed here. I see he is not here; but doubtless by searching among the papers contained in this desk, I shall find some clue to him.'
''Your search, General, will be fruitless. The unfortunate young man whose corpse lies here, instructed me, before he expired, to burn all the papers in his possession, and I have obeyed his injunctions.'
''Curses on his infernal obstinacy!' exclaimed General Valiente, 'but look you, Señor, I tell you I will search this desk.'
''By what right?'
''By the right of might.'
'Taking my stand in front of the desk, I was protesting against the lawless act of violence, when the Secretary of the American Legation fortunately arrived. Finding his plans defeated, Valiente, with commendable prudence, decided on beating a retreat, and with his followers, took rather an abrupt departure.
'The ordinary formalities of attaching the seals of the Legation having been performed, and having secured a faithful person to take charge of the remains of the unfortunate Livermore, I sallied forth to make arrangements to leave, as soon as possible, for Toluca.
The first person I met was Pedro. It is impossible to express the horror I felt of this villain. My hand was on my weapon before he had reached my side.
''Have you heard the news, Caballero?' said he, in a low, mysterious tone.
''No.'
''I was not fortunate enough to release Pepito; when I arrived with his master's letter, he had already escaped from the barracks.'
''Tell me frankly, Pedro, did not General Valiente send you, this morning, for that letter?'
''Why? What makes you ask?' inquired Pedro, quite disconcerted by the abruptness of my question.
''Because Señor Pride is dead, and General Valiente has twice been to his rooms.'
''Dead! Señor Pride dead!' echoed Pedro, in unfeigned astonishment. 'Caballero, I must be off.' And he instantly turned away, and was soon lost to my sight.
'Before another hour had passed I was on horseback and on the way to Toluca. The road was infested by gangs of robbers, but my pockets were empty, and my brain was full, so I gave those gentry not even a passing thought. The evening was fast closing in, and as the shadows gathered round me, the tragic event which I had just witnessed gradually receded from my mind. As I journeyed on, it grew more and more distant, until at last it faded into a dim memory of the past; and through the long miles of my lonely ride there went before me the glorious vision of an opal-mine of untold wealth—an opal-mine without an owner—a countless fortune, untold riches, waiting to fall into my hands.
XIV
'It was past midnight when I reached Toluca. As it was too late to call on Adéle, I alighted at a tavern, where I passed the night, pacing my chamber, and not closing my eyes. Soon after daybreak I sought the house of Pepito's sister; and notwithstanding the earliness of the hour, found Mrs. Percival standing at one of the windows.
''You here, Mr. Rideau!' she exclaimed, with surprise, on seeing me. 'How did you find my retreat?'
''I was told of it by Mr. Livermore.'
''Ah! 'tis he who sent you.'
''Alas! not so, madame.'
''Alas!—you say, alas! What do you mean? Have you ill news?'
''I have, indeed, madame.'
''Arthur is dead!' she cried. 'I know he is dead! But, tell me, I entreat you, tell me all. How—when did this happen?'
'I gave her a detailed account of Arthur's death, to which she listened with rapt attention.
''This
