zealous vigils, the complicated _finesse_ of
courtship. Perhaps this consideration impelled me. I have but little
confidence in the cold heart that is won by a series of assiduities.
There is too much calculation of after-events--too much selfishness.

These reflections passed through my mind. I bent towards my companion,
and whispered to her in that language--rich above all others in the
vocabulary of the heart:

"_Guadalupe, tu me amas_?" (Guadalupe, do you love me?)

"_Yo te amo_!" was the simple reply. Need I describe the joyful
feelings that filled my heart at that moment? My happiness was
complete.

The confession rendered her sacred in my eyes, and we sat for some time
silent, enjoying that transport only known to those who have truly,
purely loved.

The trampling of hoofs! It was Clayley at the head of the troop. They
were mounted, and waiting for me. Don Cosme was impatient; so was the
Dona Joaquina. I could not blame them, knowing the cause.

"Ride forward! I shall follow presently."

The horsemen filed off into the fields, headed by the lieutenant, beside
whom rode Don Cosme, on his white mule.

"You will soon return, Enrique?"

"I shall lose no opportunity of seeing you. I shall long for the hour
more than you, I fear."

"Oh! no, no!"

"Believe me yes, Lupita! Say again you will never cease to love me."

"Never, never! _Tuya--tuya--hasta la muerte_!" (Yours--yours--till
death!)

How often has this question been asked! How often answered as above!

I sprang into the saddle. A parting look--another from a distance--a
wave of the hand--and the next moment I was urging my horse in full
gallop under the shadowy palms.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

A DISAPPOINTMENT AND A NEW PLAN.

I overtook my companions as they were entering the woods. Clayley, who
had been looking back from time to time, brushed alongside, as if
wishing to enter into conversation.

"Hard work, Captain, to leave such quarters. By Jove! I could have
stayed for ever."

"Come, Clayley--you are in love."

"Yes; they who live in glass houses--. Oh! if I could only speak the
lingo as you do!"

I could not help smiling, for I had overheard him through the trees
making the most he could of his partner's broken English. I was curious
to know how he had sped, and whether he had been as `quick upon the
trigger' as myself. My curiosity was soon relieved.

"I tell you, Captain," he continued, "if I could on