quaintance of their fair countrywoman, Miss De Haro, it
was through the lady's pre-occupation in her own work, and not through
their ostentatious endeavors.

"Miss De Haro is peculiar," explained the politic Mrs. Plodgitt to
her guests; "she makes no acquaintances, which I consider bad for her
business. If it had not been for me, she would not have known Royal
Thatcher, the great quicksilver miner,--and had his order for a picture
of his mine!"

The two foreign gentlemen exchanged glances. One said, "Ah, God! this is
bad," and the other, "It is not possible;" and then, when the landlady's
back was turned, introduced themselves with a skeleton key into the then
vacant bedroom and studio of their fair countrywoman, who was absent
sketching. "Thou observest," said Mr. Pedro, refugee, to Miguel,
ex-ecclesiastic, "that this Americano is all-powerful, and that this
Victor, drunkard as he is, is right in his suspicions."

"Of a verity, yes," replied Miguel, "thou dost remember it was Jovita
Castro who, for her Americano lover, betrayed the Sobriente claim. It
is only with us, my Pedro, that the Mexican spirit, the real God and
Liberty, yet lives!"

They shook hands nobly and with sentimental fervor, and then went to
work, i. e., the rummaging over the trunks, drawers, and portmanteaus of
the poor little painter, Carmen de Haro, and even ripped up the mattress
of her virginal cot. But they found not what they sought.

"What is that yonder on the easel, covered with a cloth?" said Miguel:
"it is a trick of these artists to put their valuables together."

Pedro strode to the easel and tore away the muslin curtain that veiled
it; then uttered a shriek that appalled his comrade and brought him to
his side.

"In the name of God," said Miguel hastily, "are you trying to alarm the
house?"

The ex-vaquero was trembling like a child. "Look," he said hoarsely,
"look, do you see? It is the hand of God," and fainted on the floor!

Miguel looked. It was Carmen's partly-finished sketch of the deserted
furnace. The figure of Concho, thrown out strongly by the camp fire,
occupied the left foreground. But to balance her picture she had
evidently been obliged to introduce another,--the face and figure of
Pedro, on all fours, creeping towards the sleeping man.

PART III.--IN CONGRESS

CHAPTER X

WHO LOBBIED FOR IT

It was a midsummer's day in Washington. Even at early morning, while the
sun was yet level with the face