guments; and with this resolve I moved cautiously along,
and, making a wide circuit, came round to the foot of the sycamore, at
the side most remote from the Friar.

There was the hammock, almost within reach of my hand! It seemed to
swing to and fro. I cannot say if this were mere deception; and so I
crept nearer, just to satisfy my doubts. At last I reached the side,
and peeped in. All I could see was the outline of a figure wrapped in
a mantle, and a mass of soft silky hair, which fell over and shaded the
face. It was some time before my eyes grew accustomed to the deep shadow
of the spot; but by degrees I could perceive the profile of a young and
beautiful face resting upon one arm, the other hung negligently at one
side, and the hand drooped over the edge of the hammock. The attitude
was the very perfection of graceful ease, and such as a sculptor might
have modelled. What a study, too, that hand, whose dimpled loveliness
the starlight speckled! How could I help touching it with my lips?--the
first time, with all the hallowed reverence a worshipper would vouchsafe
to some holy relic; the second, with a more fervent devotion; the third,
I ventured to take the hand in mine and slightly press it. Did I dream?
Could the ecstasy be no more than fancy?--I thought the pressure was
returned.

She turned gently around, and in a voice of surpassing softness
whispered, "Tell me your name, Senhor Caballero?" I whispered low, "Con
Cregan."

"Yes, but what do your sisters call you?"

"I have none, Senhora."

"Your brothers, then?"

"I never had a brother."

"How strange! nor I either. Then how shall I call you?"

"Call me your brother," said I, trying to repossess myself of the hand
she had gently withdrawn from my grasp.

"And will you call me Maria?" said she, gayly.

"If you permit it, Maria. But how will Fra Miguel think of it?"

"Ah! I forgot that. But what can he say? You saved my life. I should
have been carried away, like poor Sancho, but for you. Tell me how you
chanced to be here, and where you are going, and whence you come, and
all about you. Sit down there, on that stone. Nay, you need n't hold my
hand while talking."

"Yes, but I 'm afraid to be alone here in the dark, Maria," said I.

"What a silly creature it is! Now begin."

"I 'd rather talk of the future, Maria, dearest. I 'd rather we should
speak of all the happy days we may spend together."

"But how so? Once at Bexar, I 'm to wait at the