"Gratitude—duty——"
"Oh, Alvarado, you love me not!" she cried. "These are the strongest. I have dreamed a dream. Lend me your dagger. There shall be no awakening. Without you I can not bear——"
As she spoke she plucked the dagger from the belt of the young soldier, lifted the point gleaming in the moonlight and raised it to her heart. He caught it instantly.
"No, no!" he cried. "Give back the weapon."
The poniard fell from her hand.
"Thou hast taken me, I thank thee," she murmured, thinking the battle won as he swept her once more in his arms. This time he bent his head to her upturned face and pressed kiss after kiss upon the trembling lips. It was the first time, and they abandoned themselves to their transports with all the fire of their long restrained passion.
"And is this the honor of Captain Alvarado?" cried a stern voice as the Viceroy entered the room. "My officer in whom I trusted? Death and fury! Donna Mercedes, what do you here?"
"The fault is mine," said Alvarado, stepping between the woman he loved and her infuriated father. "I found Donna Mercedes in the cabinet when I came in. She strove to fly. I detained her—by force. I poured into her ear a tale of my guilty passion. Mine is the fault. She repulsed me. She drove me off."
"The dagger at your feet?"
"She snatched it from me and swore to bury it in her heart unless I left her. I alone am guilty."