ur kept out of the grave. Behind him Tormillo came
creeping, a little restless man, dogging his master's footsteps,
watching for word or sign from him. These two stood by the lake in the
huge empty park, still under its shroud of white moonlight.

Don Luis picked up the corner of his cloak and threw it over his left
shoulder. He stalked stately up and down the arc of a circle which a
stone seat defined. Tormillo sat upon the edge of the seat, his elbows
on his knees, and looked at the ground. But he kept his master in the
tail of his eye. Now and again, furtively, but as if he loved what he
feared, he put his hand into his breast and felt the edge of his long
knife.

Once indeed, when Don Luis on his sentry-march had his back to him, he
drew out the blade and turned it under the moon, watching the cold
light shiver and flash up along it and down. Not fleck or flaw was
upon it; it showed the moon whole within its face. This pair, each
absorbed in his own business, waited for the other.

Tormillo saw them coming, and marked it by rising from his seat. He
peered along the edge of the water to be sure, then he went noiselessly
towards them, looking back often over his shoulder at Don Luis. But
his master did not seem to be aware of anyone. He stood still, looking
over the gloomy lake.

Tormillo, having gone half way, waited. Gil Perez hailed him. "Is
that you, Tormillo?" The muffled figure of a girl by his side gave no
sign.

"It is I, Gil Perez. Be not afraid."

"If I were afraid of anything, I should not be here. I have brought
Manuela of her own will."

"Good," said Tormillo. "Give her to me. We will go to Don Luis."

"Yes, you shall take her. I will remain here. Senorita, will you go
with him?"

Manuela said, "I am ready."

Tormillo turned his face away, and Gil Perez with passion whispered to
Manuela.

"My soul, my life, Manuela! One sign from you, and I kill him!"

She turned him her rapt face. "No
sign from me, brother--no sign from me."

"My life," sighed Gil Perez. "Soul of my soul!" She held him out her
hand.

"Pray for me," she said. He snatched at her hand, knelt on his knee,
stooped over it, and then, jumping up, flung himself from her.

"Take her you, Tormillo."

Tormillo took her by the hand, and they went together towards the
semicircular seat, in whose centre stood Don Luis like a black statue.
Soft-footed went she, swaying a little, like a gossamer caught in