Low as the words were spoken, they reached the strained ear of Lenore, and with a wild, broken wail, she fell insensible upon the ground.
The stranger handed the box which contained the pearls to the duenna, and taking the young girl tenderly in his arms, carried her home to the mother.
Poor, heart-broken wife! The pearls had come, but not her treasure. Lost! lost! God, pity all such!
The mother's love was all that saved her from madness; for her child, her beautiful Lenore, she bore the burden of life.
The stranger was kind and gentle.
He told the bitter story as soothingly as possible.
When they arrived at the island, Don Carlos was suddenly taken ill, and just as the ship was about sailing, he breathed his last, first sending his undying love to his devoted wife, and the Moorish pearls to Lenore.
"Tell them," he said, "my last words were to bless them."
In the confusion of the first moments of their grief, the duenna stole from the room, her sallow face flushed with feverish eagerness.
"The pearls," she said, "Don Carlos was the first to touch them, he is dead! This brave hidalgo was the second, and I will be the third to hold this wonderful talisman in my hands."