“You may love him to your heart’s content—I care not; but marry him—never! s’death! never!”
“Indeed?”
“By the saints, I swear it. I swear—”
“You have sworn enough; you are sufficiently perjured already.”
“Carrai!” furiously shouted Ijurra, as if losing patience. “Listen to me, Isolina de Vargas! I have something to say that may not be so pleasant—”
“You can say nothing pleasant; but I listen.”
“First, then, here are certain documents that concern you—both you and your father.”
I saw some folded papers in his hand, which he had taken from under his jacket. He opened and held them before her face, as he continued:—
“This safeguard is one given by the American commander-in-chief to the Dona Isolina de Vargas. Perhaps you have seen it before? And here is a letter from Don Ramon de Vargas to the commissary-general of the American army, enclosed within another from that functionary to your pet filibustero—a pretty piece of treason this!”
“Well, sir?”