“To her death!” I exclaimed.
“Yes; in a few minutes she and those with her are to be shot. She is a determined Revolutionist, and has long been engaged in inciting the people to rebellion. Her correspondence with the Republicans has at length been discovered; and at her trial, which took place yesterday, she acknowledged her principles, and confessed that she had written the letters.”
“So young, and so beautiful!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, my friend; and she is gentle, and possesses a woman’s heart, though with the spirit of a man. She was engaged to marry a young Republican officer; but neither her youth nor her beauty will avail her with our stern viceroy.”
“The cruel tyrant!” I exclaimed.
Not noticing what I said, he continued: “Do you think that anything will induce him to spare the learned doctor?”—and here he fixed his eyes on me—“or any young man who falls into his power?”
I could make no reply; indeed, our attention was absorbed by the mournful procession passing through the square. My eyes were fixed on Dona Paula.
“My heart will burst, if I do not go out and fight for her!” exclaimed my tutor, who was standing close behind me; and he clapped his hand to his sword.
“My friend,” said Don José, “be calm. Although I do not hold her principles, I would join you if it would avail, but any attempt of the sort would only result in our certain death.”
My heart was swelling with indignation, and I felt as did my worthy tutor, but I saw the folly of acting as our feelings prompted.