Face to face with my beautiful brunette. Her eyes flashed upon me with
an expression of surprise. I felt abashed by the glance; my conduct was
not _en regle_.
I bethought me of an apology. What excuse could I offer for such
unceremonious intrusion? Accident? She would not believe it; the time
and the place were against such a supposition. With an intellect like
hers, it would be idle to adopt so shallow an artifice. No; I would not
dissemble; I would boldly avow the truth. Jealousy had rendered me
reckless of the result.
"_Adios, cavallero_!" said she, interrupting my hurried reflections.
"_Carrambo_! where is your guide? How have you found this place?"
"Easily enough, senorita; I followed the tracks of your horse."
"But so soon--I did not expect you--"
"No; you expected another?"
"Certainly. I thought Cyprio would arrive before you--"
"Cyprio!"
"Cyprio--yes, Cyprio."
"Senorita! if this be another name for your Protean cousin, I have to
say it will be better for him he should not arrive at all."
"My cousin?--better not arrive? Holy Trinity, capitan! I do not
comprehend you!"
Her large brown eyes were rolling in astonishment. I was as much
puzzled as she, but I had begun my explanation, and was determined to
carry it to the end.
"Then, Senorita de Vargas, I shall be more explicit. If Rafael Ijurra
appear upon this ground, either he or I leave it not alive. He has
attempted my life, and I have vowed to take his, whenever and wherever I
may meet him."
"Pray heaven you may keep your vow!"
"Your cousin?"
"My cousin--Rafael Ijurra--my worst foe--the direst enemy of our house!"
"Ha! and were you not waiting him?"
"Awaiting _him_! Ha, ha, ha! No. Little timid though I be, I should
not desire to be here alone with Rafael Ijurra."
"Lady! you astonish me; pray explain--"
"_Por dios_! gallant capitan, 'tis you who need explain. I sought this
interview to thank you for your noble gift. You meet me with anger in
your eye, and bitter words upon your tongue."
"You sought this interview?--say you so, lady?"
"Certainly I did. For reasons already known to you, I dared not invite
you to our house; so I have chosen this pretty glade for my
drawing-room. How do you like it, cavallero?"
"In your society, senorita, the rudest spot would appear a paradise."
"Again the poet's tongue! Ah, capitan, remember the yellow domino! No
more flattery, I pray; we are no longer _en masque_. Face to face, let
us be candid with each other."
"With all my heart I accept the conditions. Candour is the very thing I
desire, for, to say the truth, I came prepared for a confession."
"A confession!"
"Precisely so; but since you are an advocate for candour, may I first
ask a question?"
"Ho! you wish to play the confessor with me?"
"I do, senorita."
"Bravo, capitan! Proceed! I shall answer you in all sincerity."
"Then, lady, what I would ask first--Who is this Cyprio whom you
expected?"
"Cyprio! Ha, ha, ha! Who should Cyprio be but my mozo; he who carried
my message to you. Why do you put such a question?"
"He who carried your message to me?"
"Of course. Yonder is the _muchaco_ himself. Hola, Cyprio! you may
return to the house. _Carrambo_ capitan! both he and you must have sped
well. I did not expect you for half-an-hour; but you soldiers are soon
in the saddle. So much the better, for it is getting late, and I have a
great deal to say to you."
A light had broken upon me. 'Twas Cyprio I had passed in the forest
shade; the boy was the bearer of a message--hence his having hailed me.
'Twas I who was expected to keep the assignation; 'twas I for whom the
timepiece had been consulted--for whom those earnest glances had been
given!
The bitter moments were past, and my heart swelled anew with proud and
pleasant emotions.
As yet she knew not that I had come without invitation. Cyprio, at the
word of command, had gone off without making any reply, and my prompt
appearance upon the ground was still unexplained.
I was about to account for it, and offer some apology for my brusque
behaviour, when I was challenged to the confession I had just promised.
Minor thoughts gave way before the important purpose I had formed, and
to which the banter now recalled me. So fair an opportunity might never
offer again. In the vicissitudes of a soldier's life, the chance of
to-day should not be disregarded--to-morrow may bring change either in
the scene or the circumstances; and I was skilled enough in love-lore to
know that an hour unimproved is often followed by an age of regrets.
But, in truth, I do some wrong to my character; I was but little under
the influence of such cunning cognisance at that moment. I acted not by
volition, but rather under pressure of a passion that held complete
mastery over my will, and compelled me to the declaration I was about to
make.
It was simple enough--three little words in either of the two sweet
tongues in which we understood each other. I chose the one--of all
others most attuned to the tones of the loving heart--and bending low to
that fair face, and gazing into the liquid depths of those large
inquiring eyes, I whispered the sweet, though oft-repeated phrase--
"_Yo te amo_."
The words quivered upon my lips, but their tone proved the sincerity in
which I had spoken. No doubt it was further manifest by the earnestness
of my manner as I awaited her reply.
The habitual smile had departed from her lips; the damask red deepened
and mounted higher upon her cheeks; the dark fringes drooped downward,
and half-concealed the burning orbs beneath: the face of the gay girl
had suddenly assumed the serious air of womanhood.
At first, I was terrified by the expression, and could scarcely control
my dread; but I drew hope from the flushed cheek, the roseate neck, the
swelling panting bosom. Strong emotions were stirring in that breast.
Oh, what emotions! will she not speak? Will she not declare them?
There was a long interval of silence--to me, it seemed an age.
"Senor," she said at length--'twas the first time I had heard that voice
tremble--"Senor, you promised to be candid; you have been so: are you
equally _sincere_?"
"I have spoken from the depth of my soul."
The long lashes were raised, and the love-light gleamed in her liquid
eyes; for a moment it burned steadily, bathing my heart as with balm.
Heaven itself could not have shed a brighter beam upon my spirit.
All at once a smile played upon her features, in which I detected, or
fancied so, the gay _insouciance_ that springs from indifference. To me
it was another moment of pain. She continued--
"And pray, capitan, what would you have _me_ do?"