“I have none, Señhora.”
“Your brothers, then?”
“I never had a brother.”
“How strange! nor I either. Then how shall I call you?”
“Call me your brother,” said I, trying to repossess myself of the hand she had gently withdrawn from my grasp.
“And will you call me Maria?” said she, gayly.
“If you permit it, Maria. But how will Fra Miguel think of it?”
“Ah! I forgot that. But what can he say? You saved my life. I should have been carried away, like poor Sancho, but for you. Tell me how you chanced to be here, and where you are going, and whence you come, and all about you. Sit down there, on that stone. Nay, you need n't hold my hand while talking.”
“Yes, but I 'm afraid to be alone here in the dark, Maria,” said I.
“What a silly creature it is! Now begin.”