“A secret—did I say that? No, Felipe, I was only jesting. Surely, you have no secret from me, your sister, who loves you so dearly?” asked Luisa, gazing up into his half-averted face.
“Are you sure that you do not know—that you tell me the whole truth?” faltered her brother.
“Felipe!”
“Pardon, sister. I believe I am mad of late—” he began.
“Yes, ever since that strange man visited you. Dearest brother, can not you confide your troubles to your mother and sister? Who should you trust if not those who are so proud of, and love you so tenderly?” pleaded Luisa, pressing his hand.
“And so I will; but first, dear one, tell me of what you were thinking a while since,” returned Felipe, as he banished the cloud from his face, and turned toward his sister.
“You will not laugh at me, brother? Well, it was of that noble stranger, who so gallantly rescued us from those ruffians.”
“And what did you think of him—in what way, I mean?”
“I can scarcely tell. When he first spoke to me, it seemed as though I had often heard his voice before, and when he was silent, the words were repeated over and over in my heart. And then something seemed to tell me that he was connected with my future life, and that he would have great influence over it. But whether for joy or sorrow, I could not tell. I knew that I should meet him again, and that we would become very dear to each other, and it was that secret voice that made me join my request to yours that he would visit us. I have often thought of this since, and tried to explain it to myself, but can not. We have not seen or heard of him since, and yet I know that he will come, that he will be here soon, and that my feeling will be explained. But how, or in what manner, I can not tell. I only know that it will be so!” murmured Luisa, in a dreamy, half-musing tone.
“And shall I explain this miracle, Luisa?” asked Felipe, bitterly, as he dropped her hand, and drew a little back.