“You are such a curious, ugly fellow. What have you to hope for in the world, save from me? But, if you are faithful, I will advance you. But I can as easily punish as reward.”
The red blood flushed even the brown cheek of the boy, for he was painfully conscious of his extreme ugliness, and he thought sadly of the Donna Leota.
“Listen, boy,” continued the old woman. “There is a great world beyond these walls. Can I trust you to go away over the waters with me? Remember all I promise you, and be faithful.”
She looked steadfastly into the luminous eyes of Crimson Tuft, that dilated with pleasurable exultation. She was evidently satisfied with the truth and sincerity she saw beaming there, for she proceeded:—
“I must go again to Mexico, but not alone. The Donna Leota will accompany me, for in the years to come I can not be separated from her. And you must go, as I shall need you. I am very rich, and must trust you with a great secret; but I have studied you well.”
“Señora,” said Crimson Tuft, eagerly, “I will be true to you; you shall never regret.”
“Swear it!” she said, fiercely.
So the young boy knelt, and pressed the good book to his lips, repeating after her a most solemn oath, to serve her faithfully, and keep sacred the great secret, which was to be revealed to Leota only, in case of the grandmother’s death.
“Now,” she said, “I am weary. To-morrow I will tell you all.” And she leaned back in the arm-chair, and shaded her eyes with her fan. Crimson Tuft went out, with his heart beating wild in a tumult of conflicting emotions.
On the morrow, again she called him to the library, and locked the door.