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WE REACH THE VENTA OF THE SOLEDAD.
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the cup and the lip. The morning mist soon hid them from my sight.



CHAPTER IV.

Florencio Planillas, the Mexican Miner.

Left alone in the midst of the desert plain of Cazadero, I remained, I must confess, a considerable time in a state of great uncertainty. Being far distant from any habitation, I was debating within my own mind whether I should not turn bridle and regain the hacienda of Arroyo Zarco; but the sun shone so cheerily upon the plain, and the morning air was so refreshing, that my discouragement and hesitation disappeared like the mist upon the hills, which had now put on their usual bluish appearance. I continued my route. A gallop of barely two leagues would take me to the venta of the Soledad, where I had ordered Cecilio to await my coming. The landlord, on seeing me come in with a guitar slung across my shoulder, took me for a music-mad tourist that had come in the very nick of time to amuse him, and spoke of his love for music with the air of a man who was desirous to hear my performance. I refused, however, point blank, and hastened to take possession of the most retired room in the venta. Cecilio did not make his appearance till nightfall. He had nothing new to tell me. At midday, when he escaped from the hacienda, there was not the slightest stir. This information calmed me about the fugitives, and freed me from anxiety on their account. I resolved to pass the night in the inn. My poor valet, who had traveled on foot a distance of