Chapter Twenty Four.
The Lovers alone.
It may be that the haciendado had reasons for thus leaving his daughter alone with Don Rafael, during the few short moments that should elapse previous to the departure of the young officer.
The voices of the muleteers, who were busily lading the recua of Don Valerio, scarce reached the ears of the lovers, who were now embarrassed by the profound silence that reigned in the sala. It was the first time they had found themselves alone, since the arrival of the officer at the hacienda.
The sun was gilding the tops of the pomegranate trees, where the parroquets were joyously performing their gymnastic exercises; and the breeze which caressed the plants in the garden, wafted into the saloon the perfumes of a thousand flowers. It was a solemn and decisive moment. Gertrudis, happy, yet trembling for the words of love she expected to hear, sat with her face partially concealed behind the folds of her silken reboso. In her fingers she still held the scarf she had been embroidering; but, seeing that this betrayed the trembling of her hand, she placed it on a table by her side, lest Don Rafael might observe the emotion of which he was the author. It was the last effort of virgin pride—its last attempt at resistance before avowing itself overcome.
“Gertrudis!” said Don Rafael, endeavouring to stifle the pulsations of his heart, “I have spoken to your father. I wish to consecrate these few moments—the last I may ever pass in your presence—to an explanation between us. I implore you, then, to speak, as I intend speaking myself, without reserve—without ambiguity.”
“I promise you that, Don Rafael,” responded Gertrudis; “but what mysterious secret have you been communicating to my father?” added she, in a tone of gentle raillery.
“I told him,” replied the lover, “that I had come hither with my heart full of you; that my father’s message summoning me to his presence had been received by me as a voice calling me to bliss: since it gave me this opportunity of once more being near you. I told him how I had hurried over the immense distance that separated us; and how, in order that I might see you an hour sooner, I had disregarded the howling of the jaguars, and the threatening voice of the inundation—”