stelry. They were further
surprised at hearing an unusual stir in the courtyard--the servants of
the establishment talking in a clamorous medley of voices, and footsteps
falling heavily on the pavements and stone stairs leading up to the
_azotea_ of the building.

"Jesus!" exclaimed Marianita, making the sign of the cross; "is the
hacienda going to be besieged, I wonder? Mercy on us! I hope the
insurgent brigands may not be coming to attack us!"

"Shame, sister!" said Gertrudis, in a tone of calm reproach. "Why do
you call them brigands?--these men who are fighting for their liberties,
and who are led by venerable priests?"

"Why do I call them brigands?" brusquely responded Marianita. "Because
they hate the Spaniards, whose pure blood runs in our veins; and
because," continued she--the impetuous Creole blood mounting to her
cheek--"because _I_ love a Spaniard!"

"Ah!" replied Gertrudis, in the same reproachful tone; "you perhaps only
fancy you love him? In my opinion, sister, true love presents certain
symptoms which I don't perceive in you."

"And what matters if I do not love him, so long as he loves me? Am I
not soon to belong to him? And why, then, should I think different to
what he does? No, no!" added the young girl, with that air of
passionate devotion which the women of her country and race lavish
without limits on those whom they love.

At this moment, the sudden and unexpected strokes of the alarm-bell
breaking upon their ears interrupted the dialogue between the two
sisters, putting an end to a conversation which promised to engender
ill-feeling between them--just as the same topic had already caused
dissension in more than one family circle, breaking the nearest and
dearest ties of friendship and kindred.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE INUNDATION.

Just as Marianita was about to open the door and inquire the cause of
the tumult, the _femme-de-chambre_ rushed into the room; and, without
waiting to be questioned, cried out--

"_Ave Maria, senoritas! the inundation is coming_! A vaquero has just
galloped in to say that the waters are already within a league or two of
the hacienda!"

"The inundation!" echoed both the sisters in a breath; Marianita
repeating the sign of the cross, while Gertrudis bounded up from the
_fauteuil_, and, gathering her long hair around her wrists, rushed
towards the window.

"_Jesus! senorita_," cried the waiting-maid, addressing herself to
Gertrudis, "one wou