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Show DOLORES. 75 of Dolores, walked to a projecting rock, which commanded a view of the Mora pass. Then my past life seemed renewed, as familiar thoughts were excited by the scenery. But Dolores was now my arbiter. Of her people I knew little; for her religion I cared nothing. It was hers, therefore it could not be bad. Doubtless it was true as any other. I smiled at the Protestant prejudices of my youth; I gazed into the radiant eyes of Dolores, and thought the old world mad that all its religious differences had not yielded to the potent solvent of love. Our love came unbidden. We thought not of the morrow; we made no declarations ; we simply understood each other. But as we sat upon the rocky point, sometimes exchanging a word, but oftener in silent bliss, we saw a moving cloud of dust rise from the pass far below, and had just time to gain a point secluded from observation when a cavalcade came into full view. Imagine my horror when I saw my old companions, and with them fifty more Americans, toiling wearily through the dust and heat, bound elbow to elbow, and urged on by the mounted Mexicans, who laughed and jeered at the captives. I was mad with rage, but what could one do against so many? With tearful eyes I watched them out of sight beyond the rock El Sentinel, then turned with a fierce determination to hasten northward and bring relief. Dolores met me with a smile, tinged with a shade of sadness. It was enough. I easily found excuse for inaction. Again was the repub-lic forgotten, again the eternal rights of man seemed of minor impor-tance. I was happy here. What need of dwelling on the past ? Why take such heavy thoughts for the future ? Love is a radically selfish passion. Waking, I counted the moments till she should return ; sleep-ing, her image glided through my dreams. By day she smiled upon me in the landscape ; by night she beamed upon me from the starry skies. " The summer was now far advanced ; hot days were followed by dew-less nights, and the grass was dried upon the ground. A new danger confronted us. Dolores only made her daily visit from the hacienda to the cabin at constant risk of attracting attention to my hiding- place; she now announced with sobs that the season had come when the Pueblos must remove the herds. Her father would return from the capital; if I remained at the cabin, it must be at daily and hourly risk. He? father was a caballerOj she said, brave and generous ; but he was above all a Mexican. Duty and inclination alike would lead him to surrender me. His servants were doubtful. The few Pueblos she could trust ; the peons never. " It was a rude awakening. All that calm afternoon we discussed |