"We, by the holy power vested in us, do anoint thee, Lorenzo Bezan—"
At these words, Isabella Gonzales, who had, during all the while, been an absent spectator, never once really turning her eyes toward the spot where the new officer stood, dropped her fan, and sprang to her feet. She gazed for one single moment, and then uttering one long and piteous scream, fell lifeless into her father's arms. This cry startled every one, but perhaps less the cause of it than any one else. He he had schooled so critical a moment ceremony went on quietly and was duly installed.
"Alas, alas, for me, what made thee ill?" said the, as he bent over her couch, after.
But Isabella answered him not; she was in a half-dreamy, half-conscious state, and knew not what was said to her.
Ruez stood on the other side of her couch, and kissed her white forehead, but said nothing. Yet he seemed to know more than his father as to what had made Isabella sick, and at last he proved this.
"Why could you not tell Isabella and me, father, that our old friend Captain Bezan was to be there, and that it was he who was to be lieutenant-governor? Then sister would not have been so startled."
"Startled at what, Ruez?"
"Why, at unexpectedly seeing Captain Bezan," said the boy, honestly.
"General Bezan, he is now. But why should she be startled so?"
"O, she is not very well, you know, father," said the boy, evasively.