The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
"'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."
Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita, turning to Don Pedro.
"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you alone."
"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.