“Ah, I may have been fickle in the days gone by. But absence—absence is the power that proves——”
“Hark! I hear a sound down the river! Horses’ feet, and wheels, and clashing——”
“No; it is only the dashing of the water. I know it well. That is why this bridge is called the ‘bridge of echoes.’ The water makes all sorts of sounds. Look here; and I will show you.”
She took his hand, as she spoke, and led him away from the parapet facing the ford to the one on the upper side of the bridge; when, suddenly, such a faintness seized her, that she was obliged to cling to him, as she hung over the low and crumbling wall. And how lovely she looked in the moonlight, so pale, and pure, and perfect; and at the same time so intensely feminine and helpless!
“Let me fall,” she murmured; “what does it matter, with no one in the world to care for me? Hilary, let me fall, I implore you.”
“That would be nice gratitude to the one who nursed me, and saved my life. Senhorita, sit down, I pray you. Allow me to hold you. You are in great danger.”
“Oh no, oh no!” she answered faintly; as he was obliged to support her exquisite, but alas! too sensitive figure. “Oh, I must not be embraced. Oh, Hilary, how can you do such a thing to me?”
“How can I help such a thing, you mean? How beautiful you are, Claudia!”
“What is the use of it? Alas! what is the use of it, if I am? When the only one in all the world——”
“Ah! There I heard that noise again. It is impossible that it can be the water,—and I see horses, and the flash of arms.”