Sad, how sad, is my life!”
Ricardo was eighteen and still heart-whole yet the Latin inheritance of heartbreak was in his voice. All the sadness of an unrequited love, which he had certainly never yet experienced, rang in his impassioned singing. Nor were the voices of his younger brothers scarcely less emotional. The wistful yearning golden notes were no more than the heritage of romance and sentiment so peculiarly Spanish.
When the song was done Ronny leaned over the balcony and called softly down to them in Spanish: “Hermosa (beautiful). Que se repetia (please sing again). Muy bien venido, amigos. Nos alegramos mucho de que nos honre con su compania. (Welcome, friends. We are glad of the honor of your company.)”
The serenaders had been standing well under the overhanging balcony. Now they stepped out from its shadow a little, three dark outlines in the paler dusk.
“Muchas gracias, Señorita Veronica (thank you, Miss Veronica).” came the full-toned voice of Ricardo in pleased return. He went on to say in English. “Señor Lynne, your father, has asked us to give you the serenade on our way to the fiesta this evening which is to be at Pedro’s house in honor of his birthday. We are pleased to sing for you and the señorita from the East. Now we will sing for you your favorite song, ‘Pregunte las estrelles.’ Then we must hurry or be late to sing the birthday song for Pedro.”
“Muchas gracias, Ricardo. Señorita Dean and I love your songs. Presently we shall walk over to Pedro’s casa (house) to look in upon the fiesta. We have been invited by Annunciata, his wife. Tomorrow evening I wish you to bring Donna Teresa with your brothers to a fiesta here. The mother and father of Señorita Dean will then be there. They will wish to hear you sing.”
Followed a quick flow of appreciative Spanish, then a pair of musicianly hands picked out a ravishing little prelude on the guitar. Again the three in the soft darkness below took up the heart-stirring, painful sweetness of one of the old-time Spanish cantares (songs).
“Perhaps the stars in Heaven
Know this night how much I love:”
Marjorie had learned a few Spanish words since she had come to Manaña. She could not understand those of the song. Nevertheless she understood its import. Ronny had translated the title for her. She was now lost in happy wonderment as to whether the stars in Heaven could possibly know how truly she loved Hal.