ommiseration, hoped
that he might, by the mercy of Providence, get the siller for them, but
that it would be next a miracle if he did. In a moment all his airy
castles and the delightful profits he had anticipated were scattered to
the wind, while no one to whom he applied could afford him the slightest
consolation.
The most trying time in Hilda's existence had arrived. She had given
her heart to Don Hernan, and she had married him; but she had never
dared to reflect on the consequences of her doing so. When at length he
told her that the last packet from the south had brought him peremptory
orders to proceed on his voyage, the news came on her like a sudden
thunder-clap. No longer had she the power of acting, as of yore,
according to her own untrammelled will. She had discovered that
already. What would he determine? To let him go from her, and leave
her alone, were worse than death. When might he return? Would he ever
come back? What numberless chances might intervene to prevent him. Yet
the thought of leaving the castle, placed under her charge, was
naturally revolting to her feelings. Her father had intrusted her with
his property. Could she betray that trust without meriting his just
censure? Yet had she not already done enough to make him discard her
altogether?
"Yes, I have," she exclaimed, with some degree of bitterness. "How can
I stand the storm of rage, and then the scornful sneers with which he
will assail me? Accompany Hernan, I will, come what may of it. If he
refuses he shall not leave behind a living bride. Scorn, pity, or
anger, would be insufferable, and to all shall I be exposed if I
remain."
To such a resolution it might have been expected that a woman of ardent
temperament and untrained mind, like Hilda, would have arrived, whatever
course of doubt and hesitation she might have first gone through.
Don Hernan returned with a clouded brow from his first visit to his
ship. He found Hilda seated in her turret-chamber. He threw himself on
a sofa by her side.
"There has been discontent and well-nigh mutiny among my people," he
exclaimed in an angry tone. "I might have known that it would have been
so; idleness does not suit the fellows--I must take care that they have
no more of it; they will have plenty to do in future. Well, Hilda, our
happy days here must now come to an end. They have flitted by faster
than I could have expected." Hilda gazed in his face, trembling to
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