"Oh, in that case I am quite easy. His absence alarmed me; but now that I know he will return—"
"Do you believe so?" he interrupted.
"Why should I doubt it?" she continued with some animation in her voice; "Did he not promise to return?"
"Certainly."
"Well! A caballero never breaks his pledged word. He said he would come, and he will come."
"Heaven grant it!" Don Ruiz muttered.
And he shook his head sadly, and gave a profound sigh. The maiden felt herself involuntarily assailed by anxiety. This persistency undoubtedly terrified her.
"Come, Ruiz," she said, turning very pale, "explain yourself. What has happened between this caballero and yourself?"
"Nothing beyond what you know, sister. Still, in spite of the man's promise, I know not why, but I fear. He is a strange, incomprehensible being—at one moment kind, at another cruel—changing his character, and almost his face, momentarily. He frightens and repels, and yet attracts and interests me. I am afraid he will abandon us, and fear that he will return. A secret foreboding seems to warn me that this man will have a great influence over your future and mine. Perhaps it is our misfortune that we have met him."
"I do not understand you, Ruiz. What means this confusion in your ideas? Why this stern and strange judgment of a man whom you do not know, and who has only done you kindness?"