ame, in spite of all his
efforts, visible to every one; at the same instant that, pulling back
the cloak rudely, he gazed at the sleeping stranger,--"I never saw him
before."

"Come, awake--stir up, senhor!" said the driver, poking the passenger
very unceremoniously with his whip. "We are arrived; this is the Villa
de las Noches Entretenidas; here is Don Pedro himself!"

"The Lord be praised!" said a short, round-faced little man, who, with a
nightcap drawn over his ears, and a huge cravat enveloping his chin, now
struggled to look around him. "At last!" sighed he; "I 'm sure I almost
gave up all hope of it." These words were spoken in English; but even
that evidence was not necessary to show that the little plump figure in
drab gaiters and shorts was not a Spaniard.

"Are you Don Peter, sir,--are you really Don Peter?" said he, rubbing
his eyes, and looking hurriedly around to assure himself he was not
dreaming.

"What is your business with me--or have you any?" said Rica, in a voice
barely above a whisper.

"Have I!--Did I come six thousand miles in search of you? Oh, dear! oh,
dear! I can scarcely think it all over, even now. But still there may be
nothing done if he isn't here."

"What do you mean?" said Rica, impatiently.

"Mr. Roland Cashel; Roland Cashel, Esq., I should call him now, sir."

"That 's my name!" said the youth, forcing his way through the crowd,
and standing in front of the traveller.

The little man put his hand into a breast-pocket, and drew out a little
book, opening which he began to read, comparing the detail, as he went
on, with the object before him:--

"Six foot and an inch in height, at least, olive-brown complexion, dark
eyes and hair, straight nose, short upper lip, frowns slightly when he
speaks;--just talk a little, will you?"

Cashel could not help smiling at the request; when the other added,
"Shows his teeth greatly when he laughs."

"Am I a runaway negro from New Orleans that you have taken my portrait
so accurately, sir?"

"Got that at Demerara," said the little man, putting up the book, "and
must say it was very near indeed!"

"I have been at Demerara," said Cashel, hoping by the admission to
obtain some further insight into the traveller's intentions.

"I know that," said the little man. "I tracked you thence to St Kitts,
then to Antigua. I lost you there, but I got up the scent again in
Honduras, but only for a short time, and had to try Demerara again;
then