"I am not reproaching you, Loyal Heart," she said warmly; "but I am very unhappy. If I remain, I cause the death of the only relative I have in the world; if I depart, I am dishonoured!"
"Oh, to be able to do nothing!" he cried, with great excitement. "To see you weep, to know that you are unhappy, and to be able to do nothing! Oh!" he added, "to spare you the least anxiety I would sacrifice my life with joy. God alone knows what I suffer from this want of power."
"Hope, my son, hope!" the old lady said, with an encouraging accent. "God is good. He will not abandon you."
"Hope! how can you tell me to do so, mother? During the last two days my friends and I have attempted things that would appear impossible—and yet without result. Hope! and in a few hours this miserable wretch will come to claim the prey he covets! Better to die than see such a crime consummated."
Doña Luz cast upon him a glance of a peculiar expression, a melancholy smile for a moment passed over her lips, and then she gently laid her delicate little hand upon his shoulder,—
"Loyal Heart," she said, with her melodious, clear voice, "do you love me?"
The young man started; a tremor pervaded every limb.
"Why that question?" he said, in a deeply agitated tone.
"Answer me," she replied, "without hesitation, as I put the question to you; the hour is a solemn one; I have a favour to ask of you."
"Oh! name it, señora; you know I can refuse you nothing!"