The man trembled with the violent effort it cost him to speak. He gasped faintly and strove to smile. By an impulse for which she was ever after grateful, she bent her head, slipped her arm around his neck, lifted him up, and kissed him. In spite of his death agony, at that caress he smiled up at her.
"Now," he murmured, "I die happy—content—you kissed—me—Jesu—Mercedes——"
It was the end of as brave a lover, as true a cavalier as ever drew sword or pledged hand in a woman's cause.
"He is dead," said the officer.
"God rest his soul, a gallant gentleman," said the Viceroy, taking off his hat, and his example was followed by every one in the room.
"And Captain Alvarado?" said Mercedes, rising to her feet and turning to the other figure.
"Señorita," answered another of the officers, "he lives."
"Oh, God, I thank Thee!"
"See—he moves!"
A little shudder crept through the figure of the prostrate Captain, who had only been knocked senseless by the fierce blow and was otherwise unhurt.