ver the parapet of the bridge."
"He has thrown himself into the Rimac!" exclaimed Andre.
"And how do you know that he has not reached the shore?" asked Samuel.
"The melting of the snow has made the current rapid at that spot;
besides, we stationed ourselves on each side of the river, and he did
not re-appear. I have left sentinels who will pass the night in watching
the banks."
"It is well," said the old man; "he has met with a just fate. Did you
recognize him in his flight?"
"Perfectly, sir; it was Martin Paz, the Indian of the mountains."
"Has this man been observing Sarah for some time past?"
"I do not know," replied the servant.
"Summon old Ammon."
The major-domo withdrew.
"These Indians," said the old man, "have secret understandings among
themselves; I must know whether the pursuit of this man dates from a
distant period."
The duenna entered, and remained standing before her master.
"Does my daughter," asked Samuel, "know any thing of what has taken
place this morning?"
"When the cries of your servants awoke me, I ran to the chamber of the
senora, and found her almost motionless and of a mortal paleness."
"Fatality!" said Samuel; "continue," added he, seeing that the mestizo
was apparently asleep.
"To my urgent inquiries as to the cause of her agitation, the senora
would not reply; she retired without accepting my services, and I
withdrew."
"Has this Indian often thrown himself in her way?"
"I do not know, master; nevertheless I have often met him in the streets
of San Lazaro."
"And you have told me nothing of this?"
"He came to her assistance this evening on the Plaza-Mayor," added the
old duenna.
"Her assistance! how?"
The old woman related the scene with downcast head.
"Ah! my daughter wish to kneel among these Christians!" exclaimed the
Jew, angrily; "and I knew nothing of all this! You deserve that I should
dismiss you."
The duenna went out of the room in confusion.
"Do you not see that the marriage should take place soon?" said Andre
Certa. "I am not asleep, Master Samuel! But I need rest, now, and I will
dream of our espousals."
At these words, the old man slowly retired. Before regaining his room,
he wished to assure himself of the condition of his daughter, and softly
entered the chamber of Sarah.
The young girl was in an agitated slumber, in the midst of the rich silk
drapery around her; a watch-lamp of alabaster, suspended from the
arabesques
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