lm that smote her heart--the
ponderous casements were closed--a dismal silence prevailed, and as they
entered the _Zaguan_, the echo of their steps was sent back in a
mournful sound that seemed to rebuke the intruders. The old favorite dog
of Don Manuel lay in a corner dozing a dull slumber, and Theodora, as
she fondly called him by his name, received no sign of pleased
recognition. The animal slowly raised his head, and mechanically fixed
his heavy eyes on the speaker, but he neither leaped briskly to hail an
old friend, nor resented the approach of an unwelcome stranger. The
servants, too, were long in making their appearance, and when at last
Pedro, the old major-domo, advanced to meet the party, he bore on his
countenance deep lines of affliction: for some time he gazed vacantly on
the strangers, and then in a harsh, inhospitable tone, inquired their
business.

"Pedro!" said Theodora, with faultering emotion; "Pedro, don't you know
me?"

At the sound of that voice Pedro started, and made the sign of the
cross--he gazed in astonishment, applied his hand to his dim eyes, and
then in a sort of wild stupor--

"_Santo cielo!_" he exclaimed, "Is this a dream, or a miracle? Surely
it must be an apparition!--My lady Theodora, here!"

"Yes, good Pedro," mournfully replied Theodora, "this is no delusion. I
am, in truth, Theodora, thy young mistress. But the announcement shocks
you! What means this confusion?" Her emotion redoubled--she trembled and
had scarcely strength to cry--"My father!--where is my father?"

Pedro heaved a sigh, and shook his head despondingly--"Alas! your
father!"

"What! speak!" shrieked Theodora, struck with horror--"He is not
dead!--Speak!"

"No, not dead," replied the old man, "but it seems that heaven sends you
to close his eyes, and witness his departure from this world.--Oh!" he
added, sobbing violently, "sorrow hath bowed down his venerable head:
since his daughter fled from him, this has been the home of grief and
desolation."

Theodora covered her face with her hands; the consciousness of her guilt
came with additional force to pierce her heart, as the melancholy
results of her dereliction were revealed to her. Roque and Marien Rufa
were much affected, and even the stern features of the renegade seemed
to be softened by a tinge of pity.

Theodora now could be detained by no consideration. The powerful impulse
of nature rose superior to the suggestions of fear. She hurried to her
fa