umb he ever is after these visions--that he comes from them as one
from the grave, remembering nothing. He has lain like a log all the
morning."

"Ay; but this news should awaken him, if aught can. He loved not this
sneaking Doctor. Let us seek him; mayhap, Sanchez may be there. Come!
The mistress lacks us not just now; the guests are provided for. Come!"

She led the way to the eastern angle of the casa communicating by a low
corridor with the corral and stables. This was the old "gate-keep" or
quarters of the mayordomo, who, among his functions, was supposed to
exercise a supervision over the exits and entrances of the house. A
large steward's room or office, beyond it a room of general assembly,
half guard-room, half servants' hall, and Pereo's sleeping-room,
constituted his domain. A few peons were gathered in the hall near the
open door of the apartment where Pereo lay.

Stretched on a low pallet, his face yellow as wax, a light burning
under a crucifix near his head, and a spray of blessed palm, popularly
supposed to avert the attempts of evil spirits to gain possession of
his suspended faculties, Pereo looked not unlike a corpse. Two muffled
and shawled domestics, who sat by his side, might have been mourners,
but for their voluble and incessant chattering.

"So thou art here, Faquita," said a stout virago. "It is a wonder thou
couldst spare time from prayers for the repose of the American Doctor's
soul to look after the health of thy superior, poor Pereo! Is it, then,
true that Dona Maria said she would have naught more to do with the
drunken brute of her mayordomo?"

The awful fascination of Pereo's upturned face did not prevent Faquita
from tossing her head as she replied, pertly, that she was not there to
defend her mistress from lazy gossip. "Nay, but WHAT said she?" asked
the other attendant.

"She said Pereo was to want for nothing; but at present she could not
see him."

A murmur of indignation and sympathy passed through the company. It was
followed by a long sigh from the insensible man. "His lips move," said
Faquita, still fascinated by curiosity. "Hush! he would speak."

"His lips move, but his soul is still asleep," said Sanchez,
oracularly. "Thus they have moved since early morning, when I came to
speak with him, and found him lying here in a fit upon the floor. He
was half dressed, thou seest, as if he had risen to go forth, and had
been struck down so--"

"Hush! I tell t