Chapter Fifty Three.
The Stranger’s Story.
Her head veiled by a silk scarf which partly concealed the luxuriant tresses of her dark hair as they fell in luxuriant clusters upon her bosom, Doña Rosarita’s countenance gave evidence of long and secret suffering.
As she seated herself, a look of deep disquietude increased her paleness. It seemed as though the young girl feared the approach of a moment, in which she might be required to renounce those sweet dreams of the past, for the reality of a future she dared not contemplate.
When the stranger was also seated the haciendado addressed him.
“We are indebted to you, my friend,” he said, “for travelling thus far to bring us news which I have been forewarned may prove of a very sad nature; nevertheless we must hear all. God’s will be done!”
“My news is in truth sad; but as you say, it is necessary,” and the stranger, laying a stress upon these last words, seemed to address himself more particularly to Doña Rosarita, “that you should hear all. I have been witness to many things yonder; and the desert does not conceal so many secrets as one might suppose.”
The young girl trembled slightly, while she fixed upon the man of the red handkerchief, a deep and searching glance.
“Go on, friend,” said she, in her melodious voice, “we shall have courage to hear all.”
“What do you know of Don Estevan?” resumed the haciendado.