"Now," said I, when the dishes were all cleared, "if the neighborhood of a young and charming lady, whose chamber is next to mine, does not hinder you from sleeping, I fancy you will do well to imitate me." And I muffled myself in my cloak, and lay down on the floor.
"Not a bad idea," said the Spaniard. "But, before going to sleep, perhaps you would like to hear an air on my mandolin."
"Use your freedom, but pray pardon me if the melody set me asleep."
In spite of the hard and cold couch on which I was reclining, in a short time I heard nothing but a confused murmur of broken notes, and then consciousness forsook me. I awoke with a start, under the impression that a strong chilling draught was setting full upon me. The long, thin candle which had been stuck to the wall of the chamber was throwing its last dull, smoky glare around. The Spaniard had disappeared. I was alone; and the chamber door, which had been left open, had allowed the cold night air to enter and awake me. A dead silence reigned through the hacienda, broken only by the distant crowing of the cock. I listened, surprised at the abrupt disappearance of my companion, and rose and shut the door, and, while doing so, threw a hasty glance into the court-yard. From amid the darkness I thought I discerned two black profiles half hidden by a column. One of them was that of the Biscayan, whose voice I could distinguish, although he spoke low; the other was unknown to me; but in the sweet tone, and in the accents, though prudently concealed, I could not doubt for a moment but that it was a woman. I had seen enough. I repaired to the door and pushed it open. At the grating of the rusty hinges, a slender form disappeared like a shadow behind a distant pillar. The Biscayan came up quickly to me.
"No apologies," said he; "you have, without knowing it, made yourself master of a secret which would have been yours sooner or later. It is better, then, that you know it now. Besides, I was just speaking of you. Is it not to you I owe one of the happiest moments of my life? Have I not still need of a new proof of that friendship which henceforth will be so valuable to me?"
Don Jaime then, in a few words, gave me the particulars of a romantic attachment which had arisen six months before in the shady walks of the Alameda; that, owing to the want of fortune on his part, a union could not be effected; that all attempts at flight had been defeated by watchful vigilance, which had never been relaxed till the time when the father of her he loved for her beauty alone, before knowing of her wealth, set out to visit one of his haciendas in the interior of the country. To assist in the attempt at elopement, Don Jaime had brought two horses with him; but at the third stage, at Arroyo Zarco, the poor young man, who had followed the carriage at a distance, was deprived of this last resource, as the huesped would not admit him within the walls of the building. Thanks to our lucky meeting, he had obtained admittance, and was now quite ready for a start to Guanajuato. Once there, Don Jaime intended to intrust the daughter of the haciendero to the care of a distant relative of his, who would conceal her in a convent till, the pursuit being slackened and the marriage concluded, he could set sail for Spain. Unluckily, a new obstacle presented itself. How could we quit the inn without awakening the suspicions of the huesped, and how hide the direction of our flight and keep up appearances? Don Jaime had thought that I might be able to accompany them, leaving my valet at the venta, while we accommodated ourselves with his horse. Donna Luzecita (the lady's name) could pass easily for Cecilio, and the landlord, seeing as many pass out as had entered in, could conceive no suspicion.
The Biscayan regarded me with a look of such melting eloquence, that I was on the point of throwing myself, heart and soul, into this new adventure; but, on reflection, I deemed it proper to refuse. Don Jaime sighed, and left me. He returned in a few minutes, accompanied by the young lady. A rebozo, worn in the Mexican manner, was passed round her head. Through the folds of her silk veil you could discern a bandeau of jet black hair encircling a brow empurpled with a modest blush, and under the arch of her black eyebrows two eyes modestly veiled by their long lashes.
"What should I not owe you, Señor Cavalier," said she, in that harmonious voice whose silvery tone had so charmed me some minutes before, "if you would consent to help us in our extremity! At any rate, a refusal will never change my unalterable resolution."
I must confess that her look and simple words had almost brought me over to her side. I only stammered out some commonplace about duty and prudence.
"Your presence," added the Spaniard, "can prevent one misfortune; for I love her so much that, rather than see her torn from me, I would stab her to the heart."