nate tears, the night of the
festival; and yet she had shed them on _his_ bosom. How could she be
guilty? And the spasm passed.

"I have heard you, Don Luis," he said, so calmly, as Garcia ceased,
that the latter started. "If there be truth in this strange tale, I
thank you for imparting it: if it be false--if you have dared pollute
my ears with one word that has no foundation, cross not my path
again, lest I be tempted to turn and crush you as I would a loathsome
reptile, who in very wantonness has stung me."

He turned from him rapidly, traversed the brief space, and disappeared
within his house. Don Luis looked after him with a low, fiendish
laugh, and plunged once more into the gardens.

"Is the Senora within?" Inquired Don Ferdinand, encountering his
wife's favorite attendant at the entrance of Marie's private suit of
rooms; and though his cheek was somewhat pale, his voice was firm as
usual. The reply was in the negative; the Senora was in the gardens.
"Alone? Why are you not with her as usual, Manuella?"

"I was with her, my Lord; she only dismissed me ten minutes ago."

Without rejoinder, Don Ferdinand turned in the direction she had
pointed out. It was a lovely walk, in the most shaded parts of the
extensive grounds, walled by alternate orange and lemon trees; some
with the blossom, germ, and fruit all on one tree; others full of
the paly fruit; and others, again, as wreathed with snow, from the
profusion of odoriferous flowers. An abrupt curve led to a grassy
plot, from which a sparkling fountain sent up its glistening showers,
before a luxurious bower, which Morales's tender care had formed of
large and healthy slips, cut from the trees of the Vale of Cedars, and
flowery shrubs and variegated moss from the same spot; and there he
had introduced his Marie, calling it by the fond name of "Home!" As he
neared the curve, voices struck on his ear--Marie's and another's. She
was not alone! and that other!--could it be?--nay, it was--there was
neither doubt nor hesitation--it was his--his--against whom Don Luis
had warned him. Was it for this Marie had dismissed her attendant?
It could not be; it was mere accident, and Don Ferdinand tried to go
forward to address them as usual; but the effort even for him was too
much, and he sunk down on a rustic bench near him, and burying his
head in his hands, tried to shut out sight and sound till power and
calmness would return. But though he could close his eyes on all