It was with a feeling as of one coming forth from the tombs of the dead past, that I emerged from this cave of weird enchantment, and stood once more in the cheerful sunlight of day, while the great iron door closed with a clang, behind us.
In the sales department I noticed an article of some value, which I desired for a present to one of the dearest of friends, and offered to buy at the price fixed. The salesman gravely held it up, and asked if anybody present would pay more, explaining that the law required him to do so; and no one responding, it was wrapped up and handed to me. Then we went into the parlor, where Cortez received and entertained his guests, drank a glass of the bright, yellow wine of old Spain from Parisian glasses with the Director, Señor Cendejas, bade good bye to one of the most interesting localities I have ever visited in my life, and strolled out upon the Plaza to look on the richly-clad women of Mexico with prayer books in their hands, walking with grave, decorous silence towards the great Cathedral; and the thousands of ragged bare-footed Indians, from villages twenty-five, fifty, or a hundred miles away, bearing great burthens on their backs, as they trudged patiently along, on their annual pilgrimage to the shrine of their adored Saint and Holy Mother and protector of their race, the Virgin of Guadaloupe.
