Don Ramon, Don Rafaël's father, and Doña Luz, that amiable woman whose touching history we told in a previous story,[1] were waiting, surrounded by their servants, the arrival of the Frenchmen at the door of the hacienda.
"You are welcome, valiant combatants for the independence of Sonora," General Don Ramon said as he held out his hand to the count.
The latter leaped from his horse.
"May God grant that I may be as fortunate as you have been, general!" he replied with a bow. Then, turning to Doña Luz, "Pardon me, madam," he said to her, "for having come to trouble your peaceful retreat: your husband is alone to blame for the indiscretion I am committing at this moment."
"Señor conde," she answered with a smile, "do not make such excuses: this house and all it contains belong to you. We see your arrival with joy—we shall witness your departure with sorrow."
The count offered his arm to Doña Luz, and they entered the hacienda. But the count was restless—his glance wandered incessantly.
"Patience!" Don Rafaël said to him with a meaning smile; "you will see her. It would have been imprudent for her to appear sooner, so we prevented her."
"Thanks!" the count said; and the cloud which obscured his noble face disappeared at once.
The interview of the two lovers was as it should be; that is to say, calm, affectionate, and deeply felt. The count warmly thanked Father Seraphin for the protection he had accorded the maiden.
"Ere long," Doña Luz said, "all your torments will be ended, and you will be able to yield to the passionate emotions of your heart without constraint."