"Now, then, begone, you scoundrels," the stranger continued; "I will take upon myself to be the escort of these ladies."
The bandits did not require to be twice told; they disappeared like a flight of crows, carrying off the wounded.
As soon as he was left alone with the two women, the stranger turned towards Doña Luz—
"Permit me, señorita," he said, with refined courtesy of manner, "to offer you my arm as far as your palace; the fright you have just experienced must render your steps uncertain."
Mechanically, and without reply, the young girl placed her hand within the arm so courteously offered to her, and they moved forward.
"When they arrived at the palace, the stranger knocked at the door, and then taking off his hat, said,—
"Señorita, I am happy that chance has enabled me to render you a slight service. I shall have the honour of seeing you again. I have already, for a long time, followed your steps like your shadow. God, who has granted me the favour of an opportunity of speaking with you once, will, I feel assured, grant me a second, although, in a few days, you are to set out on a long journey. Permit me then to say not adieu, but au revoir."
After bowing humbly and gracefully to the young lady, he departed at a rapid pace.
A fortnight after this strange adventure, of which she did not think fit to speak to her uncle, Doña Luz quitted Mexico, without having again seen the unknown. Only, on the eve of her departure, when retiring to her bedchamber, she found a folded note upon her prie-dieu. In this note were the following words, written in an elegant hand:—
"You are going, Doña Luz! Remember that I told you I should see you again.