“Isolina!”
“This, too, can I bestow,”—she held forth her little hand, which I clasped with fervid emotion.
“More! more! the third?”
“The third, on second thoughts, I cannot give; ’tis yours already.”
“It is—?”
“Mia corazon” (My heart).
Those splendid steeds, like creatures of intelligence, appeared to understand what was said; they had gradually moved closer and closer, till their muzzles touched and their steel curbs rang together. At the last words, they came side by side, as if yoked in a chariot. It appeared delight to them to press their proud heaving flanks against each other, while their riders, closing in mutual clasp, leaned over and met their lips in that wild fervid kiss—the climax of love.