‘Miss Vandewater,’ said he, at length, ‘I have seen the daughter of Senor del Castro but twice in my life, and have spoken to her, but on one occasion. When I stood at the top of the ladder enveloped in flame, I asked her to trust herself in my arms, and without betraying any affected delicacy, yet with great feminine dignity she placed her foot on the ladder and reclined upon my shoulder.’
‘And did she say nothing?’
“She said, ‘thanks, thanks, generous American—my father will bless your name at the altar of his God!’ It was all she said, and the next moment the smoke stifled her, and she became insensible on my bosom.”
‘And, oh! Monteagle!’ cried Miss Vandewater, clasping her hands and looking upwards, ‘we heard that you were nearly perishing in the flames!’
As she uttered these words, the tears gushed from her eyes, and throwing herself upon a rock near the feet of the invalid, she covered her face with her hands and wept aloud at the recollection of that bitter moment.
‘Ungrateful wretch that I am, how unworthy of this more than sisterly interest which she takes in my welfare!’ said Monteagle to himself, and placing one of his hands upon the head of the unhappy girl, he said—‘Oh! it was not so bad as that a stream of water soon removed all inconveniences, and a very trifling burn was all that I suffered.’
The girl looked up, seized the hand that had been extended to her, kissed it vehemently, and fled, blushing, to the house of her uncle.
‘If the sacrifice of my life could make her happy!’ ejaculated Monteagle, brushing the tears from his eyes which he could no longer restrain.