narrow street abreast. At another time Ned would not have given way, and
even now it hurt him to do so, but prudence made him step from the
sidewalk. One of them laughed and applied an insulting epithet to the
"peon," but Ned bore it and continued, his sombrero pulled well down
over his eyes.

His course now led him by the great palace of Yturbide, where he saw
many windows blazing with light. Several officers were entering and
chief among them he recognized General Martin Perfecto de Cos, the
brother-in-law of Santa Anna, whom Ned believed to be a treacherous and
cruel man. He hastened away from such an unhealthy proximity, and came
to La Viga.

He saw a rude wharf along the canal and several boats, all with the
sails furled, except two. These two might be returning to the fresh
water lakes, and it was possible that he could secure passage. The
people of the bergantins were always humble peons and they cared little
for the intrigues of the capital.

It was now about eleven o'clock and the night had lightened somewhat, a
fair moon showing. Ned could see distinctly the boats or bergantins as
the Mexicans called them. They were large, flat of bottom, shallow of
draft, and were propelled with both sail and oar. He was repulsed at the
first, where a surly Mexican of middle age told him with a curse that he
wanted no help, but at the next which had as a crew a man, a woman,
evidently his wife, and two half-grown boys, he was more fortunate.
Could he use an oar? He could. Then he might come, because there was
little promise of wind, and the sails would be of no use. A strong arm
would help, as it was sixteen miles down La Viga to the Lake of
Xochimilco, on the shores of which they lived. The boys were tired and