name, had obstinately refused to give it. He happened to say, however, that he was living at an inn, the Meson de Regina and had gone away expressing great annoyance at not finding me, and promising to return the next day. The strange air of the visitor, the numerous questions he put, the care that he evidently took not to allow his face to be seen by arranging the folds of his blue manga over it, and the large hat which shaded his eyes, combined to give to this visit a mysterious character, which acted very strongly on my imagination. When alone in my chamber, I called to recollection every one whom it might possibly be, but in vain, and I waited anxiously for the next day, which might probably unriddle the enigma; but the morning passed, the day advanced, and the unknown had not made his appearance. I resolved to go to the Meson de Regina; and, having got a description of the stranger, set out for the inn.
Although situated in one of the most central streets in Mexico, the Meson de Regina is only distinguished from other inns on less frequented roads by the greater number of travelers who are always coming and going. There is the same range of stabling, the same barrenness of furniture, the same absence of every comfort. I called for the huesped. In any other country it would have been an easy thing to find out the name of the unknown, whose costume I could describe to the most minute details, but it is very different in a Mexican hotel.
"Do you fancy," said the huesped to me, "that it is my business to ask the names of those who frequent my house? I have something else to think of, I as sure you; but as for the person you are inquiring after, he set out, not half an hour ago, for Cuantitlan, as
