eled me to do it. We have agreed to be married. We must
be married, mamma, dear mamma. I will love you--I know that I ought to
love you--I shall be forever lost if I do not love you."

"Rosario, Rosario!" cried Dona Perfecta in a terrible voice, "rise!"

There was a short pause.

"This man--has he written to you?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen him again since that night?"

"Yes."

"And you have written to him?"

"I have written to him also. O senora! why do you look at me in that
way? You are not my mother."

"Would to God that I were not! Rejoice in the harm you are doing me.
You are killing me; you have given me my death-blow!" cried Dona
Perfecta, with indescribable agitation. "You say that that man--"

"Is my husband--I will be his wife, protected by the law. You are not
a woman! Why do you look at me in that way? You make me tremble.
Mother, mother, do not condemn me!"

"You have already condemned yourself--that is enough. Obey me, and I
will forgive you. Answer me--when did you receive letters from that
man?"

"To-day."

"What treachery! what infamy!" cried her mother, roaring rather than
speaking. "Had you appointed a meeting?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"To-night."

"Where?"

"Here, here! I will confess everything, everything! I know it is a
crime. I am a wretch; but you, my mother, will take me out of this
hell. Give your consent. Say one word to me, only one word!"

"That man here in my house!" cried Dona Perfecta, springing back
several paces from her daughter.

Rosario followed her on her knees.

At the same instant three blows were heard, three crashes, three
explosions. [Maria Remedios had spied upon Pepe Rey, the lover; shown
Caballuco, a brutal servant and ally, how to follow him stealthily
into the garden; and had then come to arouse the house.] It was the
heart of Maria Remedios knocking at the door through the knocker. The
house trembled with an awful dread. Mother and daughter stood as
motionless as statues.

A servant went down-stairs to open the door, and shortly afterward
Maria Remedios, who was not now a woman but a basilisk enveloped in a
mantle, entered Dona Perfecta's room. Her face, flushed with anxiety,
exhaled fire.

"He is there, he is there," she said, as she entered. "He got into the
garden through the condemned door." She paused for breath at every
syllable.

"I know already," returned Dona Perfecta, with a sort of bellow.

Rosario fell senseless to the floor.

"