ed, in a trembling voice.

"He was long known as Tiburcio Arellanos."

A cry of joy escaped the young girl, who rose from her seat, and
approaching the bearer of this good news, seized his hand.

"Thanks! thanks!" she exclaimed, "if my heart has not already spoken
them."

Then she tottered across the chamber, and knelt at the feet of a
Madonna, which, framed in gold, hung against the wall.

"Tiburcio Arellanos," continued the narrator, "is now Fabian, and Fabian
is the last descendant of the Counts of Mediana--a noble and powerful
Spanish family."

The young girl continued on her knees in prayer without appearing to
listen to Gayferos' words.

"Immense possessions, a lofty name, titles and honours. All these he
will lay at the feet of the woman who shall accept his hand."

The young girl continued her fervent prayer without turning her head.

"And, moreover," resumed the narrator, "the heart of Don Fabian de
Mediana still retains a feeling which was dear to the heart of Tiburcio
Arellanos."

Rosarita paused in her prayer.

"Tiburcio Arellanos will be here to-night."

This time the young girl no longer prayed. It was Tiburcio and not
Fabian, Count of Mediana. Tiburcio, poor, and unknown, for whom she had
wept. At the sound of this name, she listened. Honours, titles,
wealth. What were they to her? Fabian lived, and loved her still, what
more could she desire?

"If you will come to the breach in the wall, where, full of despair, he
parted from you, you will find him there this very evening. Do you
remember the place?"

"Oh! my God!" she murmured, softly, "do I not visit it every evening?"

And once more bending before the image of the Virgin, Rosarita resumed
her interrupted prayer.

The adventurer contemplated for some instants this enthusiastic and
beautiful creature, her scarf partly concealing her figure, her nude
shoulders caressed by the long tresses of her dark hair, which fell in
soft rings upon their surface; then without interrupting her devotion,
he rose from his seat and silently fitted the chamber.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

THE RETURN.

When Don Augustin Pena returned, he found his daughter alone, and still
kneeling; he waited until her prayer was finished. The news of Don
Estevan's death so entirely occupied the haciendado's mind that he
naturally attributed Dona Rosarita's pious action to another motive than
the true one. He believed that she was offering up to Heaven a fe