our old enemy implacable--determined to have your life. Do
this, dearest, and save it--for your country's sake, as also that of
Ysabel."

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

LOOKING OUT FOR A LANDAU.

From the way Rivas treated the "billetita" after he had finished reading
it, one unacquainted with its contents might have supposed they had made
him either mad angry, or madly jealous. Instead of taking it up
tenderly, and treasuring it away, he planted his muddy boot upon it,
with a back scrape brought it into the main sewer, still keeping it
under the mud and trampling it with both feet, lifted and set down
alternately, the while shovelling away, as though he had forgotten all
about it. Not so, however. The tread-mill action was neither
accidental nor involuntary, but for a purpose. The writer had committed
herself in sub-signing a portion of her name, as by other particulars,
and should the letter fall into hands he knew of, her danger would be as
great as his own.

In a few seconds, however, any uneasiness about this was at an end. The
most curious _chiffonier_ could not have deciphered a word written on
that sheet, which by the churning he had submitted it to must have been
reduced to a very pulp.

During all this time no one had taken notice of his proceedings, not
even the man chained to him, except by an occasional side glance. For
Kearney, well aware of what he was at, to draw attention from him had
got up a wordy demonstration with the dwarf--to all appearance a
quarrel. There was real anger on the side of the latter; for the
"gringo," as he contemptuously called the Irishman, had cruelly mocked
his deformity. A cruelty which gave pain to the mocker himself; but he
could think of no other way to secure inattention to Rivas, and this
efficiently did. Both talking the tongue of the country, their war of
words, with some grotesque gestures which Kearney affected, engrossed
the attention of all within sight or hearing; so that not an eye was
left for the surreptitious reader of the letter.

When the sham quarrel came to an end--which it did soon as he who
commenced it saw it should--the knot of spectators it had drawn around
dispersed, leaving things as before. But not as before felt Rivas and
Kearney. Very different now the thoughts stirring within them, both
trying to appear calm while under the greatest agitation. For they had
again contrived to bring their ears together, and the latter now knew
all a