"Love you, Catalina!" replied the young man, intoxicated with the tenderness of the expression, while he drew her towards him.
"Oh, stay,—what—who is that?" said the lady hurriedly, as the room became suddenly darkened.
"'Tis only that cursed priest."
"Surely it was a British officer; his epaulets glittered among the vine leaves."
"Was I to find the padre eaves-dropping, his cassock would scarcely save him from a good caning."
"Alas! that would be most foul sacrilege. But speaking of him, reminds me of a plan we had formed just before you came in. I mean to put myself under his escort, and to travel to Truxillo, where the alcalde, or my mother's brother, Don Gonzago de Conquesta, will find me a proper escort to Idanha-a-Velha, where you say my cousin Inesella resides."
"And think you I will entrust you the length of Truxillo with this dubious character,—a priest with a poniard in his robe?"
"Amigo mio," said she, pouting prettily, "surely I can dispose of myself as I please?"
"Catalina, a thousand times I have told you that I prize your safety before my own," said Ronald, kissing her forehead. "I will myself travel with you to Idanha-a-Velha."
"I thank you, but it may not be. I may travel with a padre; but the rules of society would not permit the cavalier or soldado to be my patron or guardian."