nt cause. And now an instrument, not less humble, by the
will of God takes leave of you to offer it his arm, and if need be, his
life. Pray for them! good and beautiful Madonna!" he continued,
addressing himself to Gertrudis, and speaking with that religious and
poetical fervour which was the leading trait in his character; "pray for
them; and perhaps it will please the Almighty to show that from the very
dust He can raise the power that may hurl the tyrant from his throne."

On saying these words, the _arriero_ respectfully pressed the hands that
were held out to him, and then walked out of the _sala_, followed by Don
Mariano.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE LOVERS ALONE.

It may be that the haciendado had reasons for thus leaving his daughter
alone with Don Rafael, during the few short moments that should elapse
previous to the departure of the young officer.

The voices of the muleteers, who were busily lading the _recua_ of Don
Valerio, scarce reached the ears of the lovers, who were now embarrassed
by the profound silence that reigned in the _sala_. It was the first
time they had found themselves alone, since the arrival of the officer
at the hacienda.

The sun was gilding the tops of the pomegranate trees, where the
parroquets were joyously performing their gymnastic exercises; and the
breeze which caressed the plants in the garden, wafted into the saloon
the perfumes of a thousand flowers. It was a solemn and decisive
moment. Gertrudis, happy, yet trembling for the words of love she
expected to hear, sat with her face partially concealed behind the folds
of her silken _reboso_. In her fingers she still held the scarf she had
been embroidering; but, seeing that this betrayed the trembling of her
hand, she placed it on a table by her side, lest Don Rafael might
observe the emotion of which he was the author. It was the last effort
of virgin pride--its last attempt at resistance before avowing itself
overcome.

"Gertrudis!" said Don Rafael, endeavouring to stifle the pulsations of
his heart, "I have spoken to your father. I wish to consecrate these
few moments--the last I may ever pass in your presence--to an
explanation between us. I implore you, then, to speak, as I intend
speaking myself, without reserve--without ambiguity."

"I promise you that, Don Rafael," responded Gertrudis; "but what
mysterious secret have you been communicating to my father?" added she,
in a tone of gentle raillery.

"I