Infuriated by this discovery, he determined to fathom her reason. "Camillia Moraquitos," he said, with outward calmness, beneath which raged suppressed passion, "you have rejected the offer of a devoted heart. Be it so! I cannot force your compliance. You love another; no doubt some honorable man, whose unsullied name will shed a luster upon the woman he weds."
The Spanish girl's head dropped as Augustus said this, with chilling irony.
She felt that he knew her secret, and the bitterness of the sneer wounded her to the heart.
"But this is not all," continued the planter; "not only do you love another, but you hate me. I ask you why this is so?"
"Shall I tell you?" she asked gravely, lifting her flashing eyes and looking him full in the face.
"Yes."
"Heaven forgive me if I wrong you, Augustus Horton, but some secret instinct tells me that you were associated with that pitiful wretch, Silas Craig, in the plot which brought disgrace upon the name of one—"
"Who is very dear to you! Is it not so, Donna Camillia?"
"Yes," she answered, proudly, "I have never before confessed my love to a mortal. I confess it now to you. It will at least prove my belief in his innocence."
"Mr. Paul Lisimon is a very happy man to possess so fair a defender," said Augustus, with studied sarcasm; "no doubt the escaped felon, the runaway thief, will return to New Orleans ere long to claim his bride, though I fear that the very first hour that he shows his face in this city he will find himself handcuffed and carried back to jail. In the meantime, I withdraw all pretensions to your hand. I cannot hope for success against such a rival."