There is an interest--will any man deny it?--in awaking from one's
slumber, and finding that the postman has _been_; the fact made manifest
by the presence of an epistle tying proximate to your pillow, and within
reach of your hand.
It is an interest of a peculiarly pleasant nature, if the epistle be
perfumed, the envelope of limited dimensions, crested, cream-laid, and
endorsed by a chirography of the "angular" type.
The effect, though sometimes as startling, is not quite so pleasant,
when the "cover" is of a bluish tint, the superscription "clerkly," and,
instead of a crest enstamped upon the seal, you read the cabalistic
words, "Debt, Dunn, and Co."
As I awoke from my matutinal slumber--under canvas that had sheltered
his Excellency Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna--my eyes looked upon a
letter, or something that resembled one.
The sight inspired me neither with the thought which would have been
suggested by a _billet-doux_ nor a _dun_, but yet with an interest not
much yielding to either; for in the superscription placed fair before my
eyes I read the full cognomen and titles of the Mexican tyrant:--
"_Al excellentissimo Senor, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, General en
gefe del Ejercito Mexicano_."
The presence of the epistle was easily explained, for I was lying on the
camp-bedstead upon which, the night before, had reclined the despot of
Anahuac--perhaps after sleeping less tranquilly than I. Protruding from
under the leathern _catre_ was the letter, where it had, in all
probability, been deposited after perusal.
On perceiving it, my feeling was one of curiosity--perhaps something
more. I was, of course, curious to peruse the correspondence of an
individual, in my way of thinking, more notorious than distinguished.
At the same time a vague hope had entered my mind, that the envelope
enclosed some private despatch, the knowledge of which might be of
service to the Commander-in-chief of the American army.
I had no scruples about reading the epistle--not the slightest. There
was no seal to be broken; and if there had been, I should have broken it
without a moment's hesitation.
The letter was addressed--in no very fair hand--to an enemy, not only of
my nation, but, as I deemed him, an enemy of mankind.
I drew the sheet from its cover--a piece of coarse foolscap, folded note
fashion. The writing was in pencil, and just legible.
"_Excellentissimo Senor!--La nina se huye del campamento. Es cierto que
la ha mandado el hermano. Ha recibido la putita las propuestas de V.E.
con muchas senales de civilidad. No tenga V. cuidad. Yo soy alerte.
En buen tiempo, dormira ella en la tienda y los brazos de V.E. o no esta
mia nombre_.
"Ramon Ratas."