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Not a living Texan reriroan to the wild shout of triuh the deserted chahter-house Victory declared for the wily tyrant--the black-hearted Santa Anna Coned around: there was none to oppose--no not one; and the Alaain! Oh, Death! thou art insatiate! Hundreds had yielded to thy call, and followed the beckoning of thy relentless hand: and still another must swell thy specter host, and join the shadowy band of the Spirit World!

For three days Don Garcia lay motionless on his couch of pain; even utterance was denied hier, and touched him, even while he stood in the busy haunts of men All day the din of battle had sounded in his ear; Inez from time to time stole from his side, and looked out toward the fortress, dih the sulphurous cloud of smoke and the blaze of artillery

In the silent watches of the night, the shout of "Victory!" was borne on by the blast "My father, the Alaled fearfully, a gurgling sound alone passed his lips, and he fell back lifeless on his pillow

Calirl bent down and closed the eyes, covered decently the convulsed features, and then, shrouding her face with the mantilla, stept forth for assistance The next day saw the Don borne to his last resting-place In accordance with the custom of the nation, no female followed the bier It was borne by two men, and followed by soed Mexicans While just in advance strode the Padre, repeating the Latin service for the dead, and attended by four boys--two bearing censers, one a cross, and the other holy water With indecent haste they pressed forward, passing through the church, and resting the bier for a n from the Padre, the procession moved on to the churchyard, and, without further cereround Holy water was sprinkled profusedly around, and then all departed, leaving hiht found Inez sitting alone by her dreary, deserted hearth Father, mother, sister, cousin, all had passed on before her; and the last of her house, sheon the hearth just revealed the form and face of the Mexican maiden Her mantilla lay on the floor beside her, the black hair, thick and straight, hung to the waist, her brilliant, piercing eyes were bent vacantly on the fire, her dark cheek perfectly colorless as clay