“But for you I should go far hence. I cannot leave you. I would sooner risk life every hour in the day, than exile myself from the spot where you dwell—you, the only being I can ever love.
“I have kissed the gem a hundred times. In life, the sweet token can never part from me.
“My foes are after me like bloodhounds, but I fear them not. My brave steed is never out of my sight, and with him I can scorn my cowardly pursuers. But I must venture one visit to the town. I must see you once, querida. I have words for you I cannot trust to paper. Do not refuse to see me, and I shall come to the old place of meeting. To-morrow night—midnight. Do not refuse me, dearest love. I have much to explain that I cannot without seeing you face to face. You shall know that I am not an assassin—that I am still worthy of being your lover.
“Thanks!—thanks for your kindness to my poor little wounded bird! I trust to God she will soon be well again. Mi querida. Adios!”
When the beautiful lady had finished reading the note, she pressed it to her lips, and fervently kissed it.
“Worthy of being my lover!” she murmured; “ay, worthy to be the lover of a queen! Brave, noble Carlos!”
Again she kissed the paper, and, thrusting it into her bosom, glided softly from the apartment.