Now, that we have rapidly sketched the political situation in which Mexico was, we will resume our narrative in the early days of Nov. 18--, that is to say, about six weeks after the period when we interrupted it. Night was advancing, shadows were already invading the plain, the oblique beams of the setting sun, gradually expelled from the valleys, were still clinging to the snowy peaks of the mountains of Anahuac, which they tinged with vermillion hues: the breeze rustled through the foliage: _vaqueros_, mounted on horses as wild as themselves, were driving across the plain large herds which had wandered all day at liberty, but at night returned to the corral. In the distance could be heard tingling the mule bells of some belated arrieros, who were hurrying to reach the magnificent highway lined enormous aloes, contemporaries of Motecuhzoma, which runs to Mexico.
A traveller, mounted on a powerful horse and carefully wrapped in the folds of a cloak which was pulled up to his eyes, was slowly following the capricious windings of a narrow track which, cutting across country, joined at about two leagues from the town the high road from Mexico to Puebla, a road at this moment completely deserted, not only on account of the approach of night, but also because the state of anarchy into which the country had so long been plunged, had let loose numerous bands of brigands who, taking advantage of the circumstances and waging war in their own way, stripped without any distinction of political opinion both constitutionals and liberals, and emboldened by impunity, did not always content themselves with the highway, but even entered the towns to carry on their depredations. Still, the traveller to whom we allude appeared to trouble himself very little about the risks he ran, and continued his venturesome ride at the same quiet and gentle rate. He went on thus for about three-quarters of an hour, and was not more than a league from the city when, happening to raise his head, he perceived that he had reached a spot where the track parted and ran to the right and left: he halted with evident hesitation, but a moment later took the right hand track. The traveller, after going in this direction for about ten minutes appeared to know where he was, for he gave his horse a slight touch of the spur, and made it break into a long trot. Ere long he reached a pile of blackened ruins, scattered disorderly over the ground, and near which grew a clump of trees whose long branches overshadowed the earth around them for a considerable distance. On reaching this spot, the horseman halted, and after looking searchingly around him, evidently to make sure that he was alone, he dismounted, sat down comfortably on a sod of grass, leaned against a tree, threw back his cloak and revealed the pale worn features of the wounded man whom we saw conducted to the rancho by Dominique, the _vaquero_.