"Silence," Ruperto said quickly, as he laid his hand on his arm, "here she comes."
[1] See Trail-Hunter, same publishers.
[CHAPTER XII.]
IN THE CAVERN.
Ruperto was not mistaken: at this moment the most exquisite little creature imaginable came bounding up like a fawn. It was a girl of twelve years of age at the most, fresh, smiling, and beautifully formed. Her long black hair, her rosy-lipped mouth, with its pearly teeth, her magnificent black hair floating into immense curls down to her knee, her eccentric costume, rather masculine than feminine, all concurred to give an imprint of strangeness, and render her fantastic, extraordinary, almost angelic, so striking a contrast did her lovely head appear to the vulgar and hideous bandits who surrounded her. So soon as the girl perceived the Captain, a flash of delight shot from her eye, and with one bound she was in his arms, pressed to his large and powerful chest lovingly.
"Ah," he said, as he kissed her silken curls, and in a voice which he tried in vain to soften, "here you are at last, my darling Gazelle,[1] you have been long in coming."
"Father," she answered, as she repaid his caresses, and in a deliciously modulated voice, "I was not aware of your return. It was late, I did not hope to see you tonight, so I was about to sleep."
"Well, Niña," he said, as he put her on the ground again and gave her a final kiss, "you must not remain here any longer. I have seen you, I have kissed you, and my stock of happiness is laid in till tomorrow. Go and sleep. I am not egotistic, I do not wish you to lose your healthy cheeks."
"Oh," she said, with a little shake of her charming head, "I no longer feel inclined for sleep; I can remain a few minutes longer with you, father."