"You are not disposed to give her up, then?" said I, smiling at my anxious friend, as I put the interrogation.
"I know you are only jesting, Henry. You know me too well for that. No! Rather than give her up, I will stay and risk every thing—even life."
"Come, major," said I, "there will be no need for you to risk any thing, if you will only follow my advice. It is simply this—come home with your regiment; stay a month or two at New Orleans, until the excitement consequent upon our evacuation cools down. Shave off your mustache, put on plain clothes; come back and marry Rafaela."
"It is terrible to think of parting with her. Oh!—"
"That may all be; I doubt it not; but what else can you do?"
"Nothing—nothing. You are right. It is certainly the best—the only plan. I will follow it," and L—— left me.
I saw no more of him for three days, when the brigade to which he belonged entered the city on its road homeward. He had detailed his plans to Rafaela, and bade her for a time farewell.
The other three divisions had already marched. Ours was to form the rear-guard, and that night was to be our last in the city of Mexico. I had retired to bed at an early hour, to prepare for our march on the morrow. I was about falling asleep when a loud knock sounded at my door. I rose and opened it. It was L——. I started as the light showed me his face—it was ghastly. His lips were white, his teeth set, and dark rings appeared around his eyes. The eyes themselves glared in their sockets, lit up by some terrible emotion.
"Come!" cried he, in a hoarse and tremulous voice. "Come with me, Henry, I need you."
"What is it, my dear L——? A quarrel? A duel?"