I listened long, with my ear keenly bent to catch the slightest sound. I felt no interest in the noises without. The night was now hastening towards day, and the sufferers who had been making it hideous seemed to have become wearied with wailing, for their voices were no longer heard.
Alone echoed upon the air the mocking strains of the czentzontle, perched upon the summit of an acacia, and answering a friend, perhaps an enemy, far off on the opposite side of the barranca.
The bird music fell unheeded on my ear, as did all other sounds proceeding from without. Even the firing of a gun would scarcely have distracted my attention from listening for any murmur that might reach me from the interior of the tent.
I could hear the heavy breathing of the invalid; nothing more.
Once he coughed, and became restless upon his couch. Then I heard a sweet silvery voice speaking in accents of affectionate inquiry, and ending in the pronunciation of some soothing words.
From other sounds I could tell that his nurse had arisen, and was ministering to the invalid.
By the silence, soon restored, I could perceive that she had completed her task, and had returned to her recumbent position.
She appeared to have no thoughts of him who was keeping guard without;—not as her guardian angel, but rather demon, who would not have hesitated to destroy that innocence which enabled her to sleep!
Just in proportion as the time passed, so increased my respect for Lola Vergara, and my contempt for myself.
The lovelight I had observed in her eyes was but her natural look—the simple expression of her wondrous beauty. It had no signification—at least none that was evil—and in mistaking it for the glance of a guilty passion I had erred—deeply wronging her.