CURA OF ESQUIPULAS. 



167 



the yard, while I was installed in the seat of honour in 

 the convent. It was by far the largest and best build- 

 ing in the place. The walls were three or four feet 

 thick ; a large portico extended in front ; the entrance 

 was by a wide hall, used as a sleeping-place for ser- 

 vants, and communicating with a courtyard in the rear ; 

 on the left was a large sala or reception-room, with 

 lofty windows and deep recesses ; on one side of the 

 wall was a long wooden settee, with a high back, and 

 arms at each end ; before it was a massive unpolished 

 mahogany table, and above hung a painting of our Sav- 

 iour ; against the wall were large antiquated chairs, the 

 backs and seats covered with leather, and studded with 

 nails having large brass heads. 



The cura was a young man, under thirty, of delicate 

 frame, and his face beamed with intelligence and re- 

 finement of thought and feeling. He was dressed in a 

 long black bombazet gown, drawn tight around the 

 body, with a blue border around the neck, and a cross 

 was suspended to his rosary. His name was Jesus Ma- 

 ria Guttierrez. It was the first time I had ever heard 

 that name applied to a human being, and even in him 

 it seemed a profanation. 



On a visit to him, and breaking the monotony of his 

 secluded life, was an old schoolfellow and friend, Col- 

 onel San Martin, of Honduras, who had been wounded 

 in the last battle against Morazan, and was staying at 

 the convent to recover his health and strength. His 

 case showed the distracted state of the country. His 

 father was of the same politics with himself, and his 

 brother was fighting on the other side in the battle in 

 which he was wounded. 



They gave me disagreeable information in regard to 

 my road to Guatimala. Carr era's troops had fallen 



