that she did not know whether she was strong-minded or not; but
thus far chiefly troubled about Garcia, who seemed to her to be in a dying
state.

"Your uncle!" she exclaimed, beckoning wildly to Coronado as he rushed in
at the door.

"I know," he answered hastily. "A servant told me. How is Clara?"

He was as pale as a man of his dark complexion could be. Aunt Maria caught
his alarm, and, forgetting at once all about Garcia, ran on with him to
Clara's room. The girl was just then in one of her spasms, her features
contracted and white, and her forehead covered with a cold sweat.

"What is it?" whispered Mrs. Stanley, clutching Coronado by the arm and
staring eagerly at his anxious eyes.

"It is--fever," he returned, making a great effort to control his rage and
terror. "Give her warm water to drink. My God! give her something."

He sent three servants in succession to search for three different
physicians swearing at them violently while they made their preparations,
telling them to ride like the devil, to kill their horses, etc. When he
returned to Clara's room she had come out of her paroxysm, and was feebly
trying to smile away Aunt Maria's terrors.

"My cousin!" he whispered in unmistakable anguish of spirit.

"I am better," she replied. "Thank you, Coronado. How is Garcia?"

Coronado looked as if he were devoting some one to the infernal furies;
but he suppressed his emotion and replied in a smothered voice, "I will go
and see."

Hurrying to his uncle's room, he motioned out the attendants, closed the
door, locked it, and then, with a scowl of rage and alarm, advanced upon
the invalid, who by this time was perfectly conscious.

"What have you given her?" demanded Coronado, in a hoarse mutter.

"I don't know what you mean," stammered the old man. He shut his one eye,
not because he could not keep it open, but to evade the conflict which was
coming upon him.

Taking quick advantage of the closed eye, Coronado turned to a
dressing-table, pulled out a drawer, seized a key, and opened Garcia's
trunk. Before the old man could interfere, the younger one held in his
hand a paper containing two ounces or so of white powder.

"Did you give her this?" demanded Coronado.

Garcia stared at the paper with such a scared and guilty face, that it was
equivalent to a confession.

Coronado turned away to hide his face. There was a strange smile upon it;
at first it was a joy which made him half angelic; then it bec