ren,' exclaimed Ramon,
tearing his son from the arms of Quica and Catalina. 'One would say that
it is a matter to cry over. Don't you see me? I too have a soul in my
soul-case....'

"And indeed he had, for tears as large as nuts rolled from his eyes.
Santiago and Ramon departed. Quica and Catalina sorrowfully followed
them with their eyes until they crossed a neighboring hill. Then the
young girl made an almost supernatural effort to calm herself, and said,
'Mother, I am going to take the sheep to the mountain.'

"'Do what you wish, my daughter,' answered Quica mechanically.

"It was Catalina's custom to open, the gate every morning to a flock of
sheep and lead them a stone's throw from the farmhouse, where she left
them alone; but this day she went with them as far as the hill that
Ramon and Santiago had just crossed, and from that hill she went on to
the next and the next, with her eyes always fixed on the road to Bilbao,
until, overcome by fatigue and dying with grief, she bowed her beautiful
head, and instead of retracing her steps to the farmhouse of Ipenza, she
went to the church in the valley and fell on her knees before the altar
of the Virgin of Solitude."

Santiago reaches Mexico in safety, and is kindly received by his uncle,
who dies ten years later and leaves him an immense fortune. Santiago at
once plunges into every species of dissipation, and soon destroys his
health. His physician recommends him as a last resort to return to his
native country and try the effect of the mountain-air. Meanwhile,
Catalina had grown up one of the prettiest girls of the village, and
Santiago's parents had died, leaving her a handsome dowry and the use of
the farm until it should be claimed by Santiago.

"One dark and rainy night Santiago returned to his home, broken down in
health and profoundly weary of life. Catalina receives him, and is
amazed at his changed appearance.

"'Are you ill, Santiago?' asked Catalina with infinite tenderness.

"'Yes--ill in body and mind.'

"'How do you feel, brother of my heart?'

"'I do not feel anything: that is my greatest misfortune.'"

In truth, the unfortunate Santiago had lost all the better feelings of
his heart. His return to the home of his innocent boyhood failed to
evoke any pure and noble sentiments: his heart continued paralyzed,
cold, indifferent to everything. But it was impossible for him to remain
in this condition under the influence of Catalina. He gradually bega