Having doubled the number of the sentries, and taken other precautions against the return of this terrible intruder, I re-entered the tent which gave shelter to the Jarocho and his sister.
Restoring the invalid to such repose as was possible, I made preparations to leave them for the night. The girl was to sleep upon the floor of the marquee, under cover of a serapé, which I had procured for her accommodation.
“Have no fear, Linda Lola!” I whispered, as reluctantly I bade good night. “He who would harm thee must first pass over my body. I shall sleep outside—before the entrance of the tent. Adios! Posa V. buena noche! Hasta la mañana!”
“Hasta la mañana!” was the reply—simply my own words repeated, and with an innocent unconcern, that should have nipped in the bud any unhallowed hopes.
Story 1, Chapter XI.
A Mexican Medico.
In front of the tent—as I had whispered to her—I lay upon the ground, enfolded in my cloak. It was not the cold that kept me from sleeping, but the proximity—I might almost say the presence of that fair creature, since only a sheet of thin canvas was between us.
I will not confess my thoughts; they are unworthy of being recorded. Even my dreams—for I had short intervals of sleep, during which I dreamt—all tended to one theme:—the enjoyment of the beautiful Jarocha.