At length, after a long search, he and the page detected the sound of voices; and, as they emerged from behind a dense thicket of laurel, the latter pointed, with a triumphant air, to two female figures pacing slowly along the borders of a miniature lake, and engaged in earnest conversation. One was dark, middle-aged, and stately. She answered so well Sandoval's mental picture of the woman he wished to discover, that he accepted her as such without a question. The other woman appeared to be younger, but he could not see her face.
SANDOVAL MEETS TIATA.
Unobserved, they walked toward the two women, and Sandoval had already lifted his steel bonnet, preparatory to addressing the elder, when the page, pulling at his arm, pointed to the other, thus intimating that it was she who had sent the morning's message. At that moment, startled by the sound of their footsteps, the younger woman turned upon the young soldier a face more gloriously beautiful than any he had ever seen or dreamed of. It was that of a girl just entering womanhood, and was fair almost to whiteness, but with a dash of carmine glowing on cheeks and lips. The little head bore a wealth of hair that was dark brown, instead of jetty black, as was the case with most Aztec maidens. It was poised like that of a princess, but the great brown eyes were fixed upon Sandoval with a startled, pleading expression that, as he afterward said, pierced him like the keenest of Toledo blades.
So taken aback was he by this sudden apparition of youthful beauty, that the steel bonnet, with which he was prepared to make an elaborate bow, slipped from his hand and fell, with a loud clatter to the marble pavement. It would have rolled into the water had not the page captured and returned it to its owner. At this mishap the girl laughed, just a little rippling laugh, the elder woman bit her lip, and poor Sandoval, the picture of despairing mortification, looked as though about to hide his confusion in flight.
At this juncture the girl put some question to the page. At his answer she became very grave, and again looked appealingly at Sandoval. He, realizing that the time had come when he must either speak or ignominiously retreat, and so become a fit subject for mirth throughout all Mexico, opened his mouth and, after several abortive attempts, blurted out:
"I——that is, señorita, you——! I believe my brother, Don Juan——! You have exhibited an interest—— May I ask——? I mean, did you——?"
Here he paused, recalled by the expression of bewilderment on the girl's face, to the fact that she could not understand a word of what he was saying. She answered him, for all that, speaking so earnestly and with such musical accents, that poor Sandoval was completely bewitched, and, in spite of his ignorance of her meaning, would willingly have undertaken to listen to that sweet voice forever.
As she ended the words whose melody would linger in the ears of the embarrassed and shame-faced young soldier to his dying hour, there came a sound of other and harsher voices. Hearing them, the elder woman caught her companion by the arm and led her hastily away. Ere they disappeared, the girl looked back with a ravishing smile that said, as plainly as words of purest Castilian:
"I do not think you plain or awkward, or ill-favored, for I know you to be as true and brave a knight as ever plighted his troth to a maiden," and, from that moment, in his heart of hearts, was Sandoval's troth pledged.