habitation near. I am an English traveller, and am going there with a letter of introduction. Will you accompany me?"

"I live there," said the stranger, hastily turning the mules in that direction.

Saving one or two inquiries, or a confused expression of thanks, the young guide pursued his way in silence, till they came to a gateway, which he opened, and, approaching a large but desolate-looking house, sought to attract the attention of its inmates by throwing up pebbles at a window where a dim light was to be

seen.

After a few moments' pause, a head was put out of the lattice, and the querulous tones of an old woman inquired the meaning of such an intrusion.

"It is e, Xarifa. Pedro has been taken ill. Do not disturb Donna Margaretta. A stranger waits with me in the yard.”

Another short delay followed. At last the door was opened. Edward carried the unfortunate Pedro into a large hall, where stood an elderly female servant, and a negro evidently only half awake. His companion turned to him, and, for the first time, the lamp-light

shewed a face of the most perfect beauty. For a moment she stood irresolute, and then said, coldly and calmly, "This is Don Henriquez's house, and I am his daughter."

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

LONDON:

J. MOYES, CASTLE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE.