the spirit did not quail! Hour
after hour passed, she knew not whether it was night or day, when the
gloom of her dungeon was suddenly illumined; she knew not at first
how or whence, so noiseless was the entrance of the intruder, but
gradually she traced the light to a small lamp held in the hand of
a shrouded individual, whom she recognized at once. There was one
fearful thrill of mortal dread, one voiceless cry for strength from
Heaven, and Marie Morales stood before Don Luis erect and calm, and
firm as in her hour of pride.

Garcia now attempted no concealment. His mask had been cast aside, and
his features gleamed without any effort at hypocritical restraint, in
all the unholy passions of his soul. We will not pollute our pages
with transcribing the fearful words of passions contending in their
nature, yet united in their object, with which the pure ear of his
prisoner was first assailed--still lingering desire, yet hate, wrath,
fury, that she should dare still oppose, and scorn, and loathe him;
rage with himself, that, strive as he might, even he was baffled by
the angel purity around her; longing to wreak upon her every torture
that his hellish office gave him unchecked power to inflict, yet
fearing that, if he did so, death would release her ere his object was
attained; all strove and raged within him, making his bosom a very
hell, from which there was no retracting, yet whose very flames
incited deeper fury towards the being whom he believed their cause.

"And solitude, darkness, privation--have they so little availed that
thou wilt tempt far fiercer sufferings?" he at length demanded,
struggling to veil his fury in a quiet, concentrated tone. "Thou hast
but neared the threshold of the tortures which one look, one gesture
of my hand, can gather around thee; tortures which the strongest
sinew, the firmest mind, have been unable to sustain--how will that
weakened frame endure?"

"It can but die," replied the prisoner, "as nobler and better ones
have done before me!"

"Die!" repeated Garcia, and he laughed mockingly. "Thinkest thou we
know our trade so little that such release can baffle us? I tell thee,
pain of itself has never yet had power to kill; and we have learned
the measure of endurance in the human form so well, that we have never
yet been checked by death, ere our ends were gained. And so will it be
with thee, boldly as now thou speakest. Thou hast but tasted pain!"

"Better the sharpest torture th