Una mirada un suspiro,
Una lagrima querida,
Es balsamo à la herida
Que abriste en mi corazón.
Por esa lagrima cara
Objeto de mi termina,
Yo te amé bella criatura
Desde que te vi llorar.
Te acuerdas de aquella noche
En que triste y abatida
Una lagrima querida
Vi de tus ojos brotar.
Although Russell was at the base of the high wall he saw that a light flashed. The light was followed by the clapping of little hands. "Jove!" he thought, "am I really jealous? But damn that Californian!"
Altimira sang two more songs and was rewarded by the same demonstrations. As he descended the ladder and reached the open street he met Russell face to face. The two men regarded each other for a moment. The Californian's handsome face was distorted by a passionate scowl; Russell was calmer, but his brows were lowered.
Altimira flung the ladder to the ground, but fire-blooded as he was, the politeness of his race did not desert him, and his struggle with English flung oil upon his passion.
"Señor," he said, "I no know what you do it by the house of the Señorita Benicia so late in the night. I suppose you have the right to walk in the town si it please yourself."
"Have I not the same right as you—to serenade the Señorita Benicia? If
I had known her room, I should have been on the wall before you."
Altimira's face flushed with triumph. "I think the Señorita Benicia no care for the English song, señor. She love the sweet words of her country: she no care for words of ice."
Russell smiled. "Our language may not be as elastic as yours, Don Fernando, but it is a good deal more sincere. And it can express as much and perhaps—"