"Speak, in Heaven's name!" doña María exclaimed, approaching her brother-in-law, "tell me that I am not mistaken, that don Jaime really spoke the truth; that I have a son, in short, and that this son is the twin brother of my beloved Carmen?"
"Yes," he muttered, in a low voice.
"Oh, thanks be to God!" she cried, with an expression of ineffable joy, "And you know where my son is? You will restore him to me, will you not? I implore you, reflect that I have never seen him, that I long for his caresses! Where is he? Tell me."
"Where he is?"
"Yes."
"I do not know," he answered, coldly.
The unhappy mother sank into a chair, and buried her face in her hands. Don Jaime approached her.
"Courage, poor woman!" he said to her, gently. There was a moment of mournful silence. In the room where so many persons were collected, nothing was to be heard but the sound of oppressed breathing and the stifled sobs of doña María and the two young ladies. Don Horacio advanced a step.
"My noble brother-in-law," he said in a firm voice, impressed with a certain grandeur, "request these caballeros to retire into the adjoining room; I wish to be alone with you and my sister-in-law for a few minutes."
Don Jaime bowed, and addressing the count, said, "My friend, be kind enough to conduct these ladies into the adjoining saloon."