His sister Ellen was the only member of his family for whom he experienced sympathy; and yet it was only with extreme reserve that he intrusted his boyish secrets to her—secrets which, during the last few days, had acquired an importance he did not himself suspect, but which his sister, with the innate intelligence of woman, had already divined.
Shaw, as we have said, was thinking. The young savage's indomitable nature revolted against an unknown force which had suddenly sprung up in his heart—mastered and subdued him in spite of all his efforts. He was in love! He loved, ignorant even of the meaning of the word love, which comprises in this nether world all earthly joy and suffering. Vainly he sought to explain his feelings; but no light flashed across his mind, or illumined the darkness of his heart. He loved without desire and without hope, involuntarily obeying that divine law which compels even the roughest man to seek a mate. He was dreaming of Doña Clara. He loved her, as he was capable of loving, with that passionate impetuosity, that violence of feeling, to which his uncultivated mind adapted him. The sight of the maiden caused him a strange trouble, which he did not attempt to account for. He did not try to analyse his feelings, for that would have been impossible; and yet at times he was a prey to cold and terrible fury, when thinking that the haughty maiden, who was even unconscious of his existence, would probably only spurn and despise him if she knew it. He was yielding to these crushing thoughts, when he suddenly felt a hand laid on his shoulder. On turning, Ellen stood before him, upright and motionless, like the white apparitions of the German legends. He raised his head, and bent an inquiring glance on his sister.
"You are not asleep, Ellen?"
"No," she answered in a voice soft as a bird's song. "Brother, my heart is sad."
"What is the matter, Ellen? Why not enjoy a few hours of that repose so necessary for you?"
"My heart is sad, I tell you, brother," she went on. "In vain do I seek sleep—it flies far from me."
"Sister, tell me the cause of your sufferings, and perhaps I can appease the grief that devours you."
"Can you not guess it?"
"I do not understand you."
She looked at him so sternly that he could not let his eyes fall.