owy summits of the Cordilleras, the
tumult of the _elite_ of Lima equals the matinal hubbub of the
merchants.

Nevertheless, when the _oracion_ (evening _angelus_) sounds from the
bell of the cathedral, all this noise suddenly ceases; to the clamor of
pleasure succeeds the murmur of prayer; the women pause in their walk
and put their hands on their rosaries, invoking the Virgin Mary. Then,
not a merchant dares sell his merchandise, not a customer thinks of
buying, and this square, so recently animated, seems to have become a
vast solitude.

While the Limanians paused and knelt at the sound of the _angelus_, a
young girl, carefully surrounded by her discreet mantle, sought to pass
through the praying multitude; she was followed by a mestizo woman, a
sort of duenna, who watched every glance and step. The duenna, as if she
had not understood the warning bell, continued her way through the
devout populace: to the general surprise succeeded harsh epithets. The
young girl would have stopped, but the duenna kept on.

"Do you see that daughter of Satan?" said some one near her.

"Who is that _balarina_--that impious dancer?"

"It is one of the Carcaman women." (A reproachful name bestowed upon
Europeans.)

The young girl at last stopped, blushing and confused.

Suddenly a _gaucho_, a merchant of mules, seized her by the shoulder,
and would have compelled her to kneel; but he had scarcely laid his hand
upon her when a vigorous arm rudely felled him to the ground. This
scene, rapid as lightning, was followed by a moment of confusion.

"Save yourself, miss," said a gentle and respectful voice in the ear of
the young girl.

The latter turned, pale with terror, and saw a young Indian of tall
stature, who, with his arms tranquilly folded, was awaiting with firm
foot the attack of his adversary.

"We are lost!" exclaimed the duenna; "_nina, nina_, let us go, for the
love of God!" and she seized the arm of the young girl, who disappeared,
while the crowd rose and dispersed.

The _gaucho_ had risen, bruised with his fall, and thinking it not
prudent to seek revenge, rejoined his mules, muttering threats.

CHAPTER II.

EVENING IN THE STREETS OF LIMA.

Night had succeeded, almost without intervening twilight, the glare of
day. The two women quickened their pace, for it was late; the young
girl, still under the influence of strong emotion, maintained silence,
while the duenna murmured some mysterious paternosters-