"A rascally thief from Vera Cruz, that is what you are," was the retort; "a sand-fly that would fain creep in and make its nest amongst us."
"I will show you who has the most power, your Vicénte Gueréro, or Cassio Isidro," cried the Zambo. "I will let you know it," added he, his hands stuck in his sides as if in defiance, "and before ten months are past, I will have Vicénte Gueréro for my muleteer."
The Zambo's cup was filled to overflowing by this last piece of presumption, and a thousand Indians, forgetting their sloth and apathy, sprang forward to seize and punish the man who had dared to speak lightly of one of the greatest heroes of the Revolution, the representative of the interests of the coloured races. But the Zambo was far more nimble than the sluggish Léperos, and his speed of foot, and active bounds over the heaps of lava, enabled him to laugh at the pursuit and menaces of those zealous partisans of the illustrious Vicénte Gueréro.
This kind of familiar, not to say profane, adaptation of the Scriptures to the comprehension of the lowest and most ignorant classes, for the furtherance of a political or other temporal object, is not altogether without example amongst the priesthood of some European countries.
We pass on to a midday scene in the city of Mexico. There had been a disturbance, followed by some menacing demonstrations on the part of the authorities; and the streets, instead of being silent and entirely deserted, as is usually the case in Mexico during the first three hours of the afternoon, were traversed by numerous passengers. The following picture of a Spanish-American interior, is peculiarly characteristic.
It was one of those delightful February afternoons, when the freshness of the Mexican winter blends with the approaching summer heat which is so soon to succeed it, when the sun begins to resume its power, and the heavens appear so pure and deep, and so transparent in the brilliancy of their golden-tinted azure, that the eye seems to penetrate beyond them into infinite space. From the mirador, or balcony, of the house of St Simon Stilitta, whence they commanded a view of the cathedral, of several palaces, and for nearly a mile down the long Tacuba street, three pairs of dark eyes were flashing bright glances through the gilt trellis-work. It was a stately and right Catholic-looking mansion, that Casa de San Simon—which was so called because its front was adorned with the image of the aforesaid patron. An image of St. Francisco was his companion, and between the two was the balcony, occupied by three young girls, whose blooming beauty contrasted strongly with the harsh-featured and indifferently carved and painted effigies of the two holy men.
Although none of the three damsels were more than half through their teens, they had not the less attained the full perfection and ripeness of Mexican womanhood. First, there was the Señorita Doña Celestina, daughter of the intendant of Valladolid, a little round-faced beauty, with some tendency to embonpoint, lips rather too full, eyes black and brilliant, although somewhat prominent, a well-turned waist, and a healthy Spanish complexion—that is to say, bordering on the yellow—of which hue her teeth, thanks to the filthy cigar, also participated. Doña Ximene, daughter of Señor Vivar, one of the oidores of the Audiencia, was of more slender form than her above-named companion, her lips also rather too thick—a defect modified, however, by the grace with which they occasionally parted, and disclosed a symmetrical row of teeth. Her eyes, although not sufficiently deep-set, sparkled like diamonds, and she smoked her pajita with an elegance that was quite enchanting. Laura, a round-chinned, plump-cheeked damsel, youngest daughter of the vice-president of the Hacienda Real, made up the trio. All three had the smallest possible feet, the most fairy-like hands, the blackest eyes, and the best Woodville cigars; and all three were suffering from a most extravagant fit of ennui. It was to get rid of this last, that the poor girls, who lived in the Calle de Aguila, the fashionable Spanish street, and had been awakened from their siesta by the grito and disturbance, had come, attended by their negro waiting-maids, to pay a visit to their friend Isidra, whom they had found giving herself up to all the delights of Mexican farniente.
The mirador on which the three girls were lounging and smoking, was connected with the sala, or drawing-room, by lofty folding-doors, which stood open. At the further end of this sala was the estrada, a kind of raised platform; on the estrada a large low ottoman, and on the ottoman two figures, of which the one sat upright, and the other was in a reclining posture. The girdle of the latter was loosened, and the upper part of the body bare of all covering, except a profusion of glossy black hair, which was spread out over the bosom and shoulders; answering, however, less the purpose of a veil, than that of making more evident the whiteness of the owner's skin. The lady thus unceremoniously disapparelled was apparently very young; but no inference could be drawn from her face, which was concealed in the lap of her companion, a mulatto girl, whose fingers and eyes were alike busy in an investigation of her mistress's head; a search so eager, active, and absorbing, that she resembled a huntress, forgetting, in the ardour of the chase, all surrounding objects.