“And you call yourself the friend of Gonzalo.”
Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Luis it would not have produced a more prostrating effect.
“Gonzalo is my friend, in fact,” he gasped.
“Not if he knew himself,” insisted Ramona, ironically. “If it were so you could not have spoken as you have just done.”
“Then are you yet in relations with him?”
“You know it very well.”
“No,” replied the unfortunate youth, pale as a corpse; “I give you my word as a gentleman that I did not know it. My father told me some days past that he knew these relations were broken; only for this reason have I forced myself to reveal to you my love. I may endure the fact that you do not love me, since such is my lot, but I cannot be willing that you should consider me disloyal. I desire that you should esteem me even if you may not love me.”
* * * *
The youth in the meantime had arrived at his home, mounted his horse and immediately sallied forth to the house of Luis. He sent a message to his former friend by a servant, begging him that he would come outside, which Medina did immediately, well bred and polite as he was.