toral life, amidst myrtles and meadows, flocks and shepherds, in
all the sweet tranquillity of a terrestrial paradise."

Whether sketched in jest or in earnest, this picture of rustic felicity
had evidently few charms for Rosaura, at least in the companionship
proposed. Suddenly she stepped up to the Count, took his hand, looked
full into his dark serious countenance, and laughed aloud and most
musically.

"What do I hear, Excellency?" she exclaimed; "_you_ in myrtle groves and
smiling meadows--_you_ leading a shepherd's tranquil life! Oh, ye
Saints! _he_ a shepherd in the Alpuxarras. Ah! the flocks would fly and
scatter themselves, when they beheld the gloomy lines upon your brow.
Where are sheep to be found who would be tended by that ensanguined
hand? Where could _you_ find repose? Is there a place free from the
echoes of the curses that martyred Liberals have heaped upon you? Where
is the domestic hearth around which would not range themselves the
spectres of the wretches who, at your command, have been blotted from
the book of life. Count, I shudder at the thought! Holy Mother of God!
is that the happy future you would compel me to share? No, no,
never!--though the garrote were to encircle my neck, as it did that of
the unhappy lady at Granada, who refused to betray her husband, and whom
you sent to the scaffold in his stead! Has she never appeared to your
Excellency, cold and pale, and with sightless eyes? For Quito's
treasures would I not behold her--her and the whole ghastly train;
hundreds, ay hundreds of them, in the long, black-bordered shrouds, and
the barefooted friars with their fearful _misericordia_! Mercy, mercy,
Excellency! with me would come the evil spirits, and a thousand----but,
good-night, good-night, Excellency."

With a graceful movement of hand and head she glided from the room. The
Count attempted not to detain her. He stood motionless, his hand thrust
into his breast, and followed her with his eyes in mute astonishment.

"The silly child!" he at last murmured. "But how lovely she is! I, whom
all fear--even HE," he emphatically added--"I almost quail before her
mad petulance. Well, well!" he continued after a pause, "the priest
first, and discipline afterwards. A man who has bowed and broken so many
stubborn spirits, will hardly be vanquished by the humours of a wilful
girl. Good-night, my lovely bride. 'We shall see,' you said; and
assuredly we _will_ see."

He took his hat, and was abou