his entwined
fingers cracking. I had met him in the gallery, as I was making my way
back to Carlos' room in anxiety and fear, and we had stepped aside into
a large saloon, seldom used, above the gateway. I shall never forget
the restless, swift pacing of that burly figure, while, feeling utterly
crushed, now the excitement was over, I leaned against a console. Three
long bands of moonlight fell, chilly bluish, into the vast room, with
its French Empire furniture stiffly arranged about the white walls.

"And that man?" he asked me at last.

"I could have killed him with my own hands," I said. "I was the
stronger. He had his pistols on him, I am certain, only I could not be a
party to an assassination...."

"Oh, my son, it would have been no sin to have exerted the strength
which God had blessed you with," he interrupted. "We are allowed to kill
venomous snakes, wild beasts; we are given our strength for that, our
intelligence...." And all the time he walked about, wringing his hands.

"Yes, your reverence," I said, feeling the most miserable and helpless
of lovers on earth; "but there was no time. If I had not thrown him out,
Castro would have stabbed him in the back in my very hands. And that
would have been------" Words failed me.

I had been obliged not only to desist myself, but to save his life from
Castro. I had been obliged! There had been no option. Murderous enemy as
he was, it seemed to me I should never have slept a wink all the rest of
my life.

"Yes, it is just, it is just. What else? Alas!" Father Antonio repeated
disconnectedly. "Those feelings implanted in your breast----I have
served my king, as you know, in my sacred calling, but in the midst of
war, which is the outcome of the wickedness natural to our fallen state.
I understand; I understand. It may be that God, in his mercy, did not
wish the death of that evil man--not yet, perhaps. Let us submit. He
may repent." He snuffled aloud. "I think of that poor child," he said
through his handkerchief. Then, pressing my arm with his vigorous
fingers, he murmured, "I fear for her reason."

It may be imagined in what state I spent the rest of that sleepless
night. At times, the thought that I was the cause of her bereavement
nearly drove me mad.

And there was the danger, too.

But what else could I have done? My whole soul had recoiled from the
horrible help Castro was bringing us at the point of his blade. No love
could demand from me such a sacri