"What can I do? Has not this life been ever mine?"
"Does your father go away often?"
"Only during the last few days. I know not what he fears, but he and my brothers seem sad and preoccupied, they go on long journeys, and when they return quite worn out, the words they address to me are harsh and snappish."
"Poor child!" said Don Pablo, "I can tell you the cause of these long journeys."
"Do you fancy I have not guessed it?" she replied; "No, no, the horizon is too gloomy around us for me not to perceive the gathering storm which will soon burst over us; but," she added, with an effort, "let us speak of ourselves, the moments are precious; what have you done?"
"Nothing," the young man said, mournfully; "all my researches have been in vain."
"That is strange," Ellen muttered; "and yet the coffer cannot be lost."
"I am as convinced of that as you are; but into whose hands has it fallen? That is what I cannot say."
The maiden reflected.
"When did you notice its disappearance?" Don Pablo went on a moment after.