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nought since my Cora hath escaped from her persecutors."

"Hast thou recognised the robbers?" asked the youth.

"They are dogs," was the Carijó's reply. "I could not well see their faces, but I hold them to be none but certain bad white neighbours who kidnap in São Paulo without respect for the voice of the holy Missionaries or fear of the Eternal God's chastisements. We are poor weak Pagans, and only the Padres can succour and preserve us!"

They walked towards the wretched hovel where the Indians lived, and found its only door torn from its hinges and lying upon the ground. All three entered. The Carijó struck fire with a flint, and with a few dry splints lighted up the interior. Hereupon Manuel recognised the Cabóclo as one of the most faithful followers of his religion and frequenters of the Company's Church.

The man wore a shirt and short drawers of undyed cotton; his feet were naked, but his aspect was not that of a slave. Cora was dressed in a large-sleeved gown of the same material, girt tightly round the waist. Her thick black locks, shining like polished jet, fell upon her shoulders. Eyes almond-shaped, with the darkest pupils set in bluish white—eyes to which a fringe of curving lashes lent the softest expression—admirably harmonised with the flush of youthful cheeks, with the delicate pink of the mouth, with the pleasing lines of the features, and with the bending of the Indian form.

A large coarse print of the Blessed Virgin adorned the walls of the hovel, which were of clay, whilst tamped earth formed the floor.

Manuel aided the Indian to replace the door of the shanty, calmed him with advice how to guard against the future, and exhorted the maiden to persevere in the paths of virtue. Then he took leave and resumed