"Luis—Luis—no one that knew it, ever doubted of thy heart!" Mercedes paused, and the working of her countenance proved that the earnest sincerity of her lover had already shaken her doubts of his constancy. Still, her mind reverted to the scenes of the voyage, and her imagination portrayed the couch of the stricken Ozema. After a minute's delay, she proceeded, in a low, humbled tone—"I will not deny that it is soothing to my heart to hear this language, to which, I fear, I listen too readily," she said. "Still, I find it difficult to believe that thou canst ever forget one who hath even braved the chances of death, in order to shelter thy body from the arrows of thy foes."
"Believe not this, beloved girl; thou wouldst have done that thyself, in Ozema's place, and so I shall ever consider it."
"I should have the wish, Luis," Mercedes continued, her eyes suffused with tears, "but I might not have the power!"
"Thou wouldst—thou wouldst—I know thee too well to doubt it."
"I could envy Ozema the occasion, were it not sinful! I fear thou wilt think of this, when thy mind shall have tired with attractions that have lost their novelty."
"Thou wouldst not only have done it, but thou wouldst have done it far better. Ozema, moreover, was exposed in her own quarrel, whilst thou wouldst have exposed thyself in mine."
Mercedes again paused, and appeared to muse deeply. Her eyes had brightened under the soothing asseverations of her lover, and, spite of the generous self-devotion with which she had determined to sacrifice all her own hopes to what she had imagined would make her lover happy, the seductive influence of requited affection was fast resuming its power.
"Come with me, then, Luis, and behold Ozema," she at length continued. "When thou see'st her, in her present state, thou wilt better understand thine own intentions. I ought not to have suffered thee thus to revive thy ancient feelings in a private interview, Ozema not being present; it is like forming a judgment on the hearing of only one side. And, Luis"—her heightened color, the effect of feeling, not of shame, rendered the girl surpassingly beautiful—"and, Luis, if thou shouldst find reason to change thy language after visiting the princess, however hard I may find it to be borne, thou wilt be certain of my forgiveness for all that hath passed, and of my prayers"—
Sobs interrupted Mercedes, and she stopped an instant to wipe away her tears, rejecting Luis' attempt to fold her in his arms, in order to console her, with a sensitive jealousy of the result; a feeling, however, in which delicacy had more weight than resentment. When she had dried her eyes, and otherwise removed the traces of her agitation, she led the way to the apartment of Ozema, where the presence of the young man was expected.
Luis started on entering the room; a little on perceiving that the queen and the admiral were present, and more at observing the inroads that disappointment had made on the appearance of Ozema. The color of the latter was gone, leaving a deadly paleness in its place; her eyes possessed a brightness that seemed supernatural, and yet her weakness was so evident as to render it necessary to support her, in a half-recumbent posture, on pillows. An exclamation of unfeigned delight escaped her when she beheld our hero, and then she covered her face with both her hands, in childish confusion, as if ashamed at betraying the pleasure she felt. Luis behaved with manly propriety, for, though his conscience did not altogether escape a few twinges, at the recollection of the hours he had wasted in Ozema's society, and at the manner in which he had momentarily submitted to the influence of her beauty and seductive simplicity, on the whole he stood self-acquitted of any thing that might fairly be urged as a fault, and most of all, of any thought of being unfaithful to his first love, or of any design to deceive. He took the hand of the young Indian respectfully, and he kissed it with an openness and warmth that denoted brotherly tenderness and regard, rather than passion, or the emotion of a lover. Mercedes did not dare to watch his movements, but she observed the approving glance that the queen threw at her guardian, when he had approached the couch on which Ozema lay. This glance she interpreted into a sign that the count had acquitted himself in a manner favorable to her own interests.