“Bless her,” cried the Governor. “That is a happy thought.”
“She says that Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir and followers are excited very much this morning. Hundreds and hundreds of people have been there to-day to see him. She was asked, late last night, after the banquet closed, to spend the day away from the house, but to return not later than eight o’clock to-night. Before she left, those people began to come. She believes their object is to formulate plans to overthrow the state rule. She fears your life will be in danger. She asked me to say to you to use every precaution to avoid evil,” concluded Catalina. She seemed to possess the very soul of Helen Hinckley.
The Governor looked into the face of the beautiful child, and as he wiped a mist away, that seemed to gather in his eyes, said: “This is the return of love. I am contented. She loves me now, I am certain. All is well; all is well. It could not be otherwise in the end. Truth is everlasting; it endureth forever and forever. In the end it triumphs. The waiting for the end often seems an eternity. Without the one I love, every day is as an eternity. The end is near at hand. Yet before it comes, a fearful struggle will take place. Thou great One, from whom all light comes, bear witness to my integrity of purpose.”
The Governor spoke aloud and gesticulated much, yet he was unconscious, seemingly, of the fact, or that he had company. A slight knock at the door stopped his soliloquy, and glancing around the room in a confused manner, he discovered the child sound asleep upon the chair on which she sat. “Poor little darling; after all, you are a healthy, natural child. Exhausted from last night’s dissipation, nature demands her rights, and is now getting them. If my Helen has adopted you, dear, you are mine, too, I will be your papa after all.” He kissed her fondly on each full, red cheek, and quietly opened the door.
It was Juan who was seeking admittance. He stepped quickly into the room, after looking up and down the hall nervously, and closed the door.
“Your actions, Juan, are strange. Explain,” said the Governor.
Juan stood shaking and speechless, and glaring with wide-open eyes at Catalina.
“What is it, man, what is it? Why do you stand gaping like a man from whom all reason had fled? Come, good man, be natural. I cannot lose my old friend. Come, come, sit down; I must do something for you,” entreated the Governor, getting very nervous. The only sign of life Juan had shown since he entered the room, now appeared. He raised his long, gaunt hand, and pointed with his index finger to Catalina.
“Ah!” exclaimed the Governor. “You are surprised to find the sweet child here. She is no cause for your being so frightened. Come, Juan, explain yourself,” he entreated, taking his old servant’s arm.
“Your Honor,” he whispered, “she is not a child—she is a woman, and a ghost-woman at that.”