risk not hearing certain things--in short, an avowal--such as
you might wish."

"I shall try to obey you," answered Don Rafael, turning his gaze towards
the tops of the trees, as if about to study the domestic habits of the
parroquets, that still continued their evolutions among the branches.

In a timid and trembling voice, Gertrudis commenced--

"One day," said she, "not very long ago--a young girl made a vow to the
Virgin, to save the man she loved from fearful danger that threatened
him. Don't you think, Don Rafael, that that man was dearly loved?"

"That depends upon the nature of the vow," replied the officer.

"You shall hear it. The young girl promised to the Virgin, that if her
lover should escape from the danger, she would cause him to cut the
hair--Oh! if you look at me I cannot go on--she would cause him to cut
the hair from her head with his own hands--the long tresses which she
herself highly valued, and which he had so passionately admired. In
your opinion, was that man beloved?"

"Oh! who would not be proud to be so loved?" cried Don Rafael, casting a
glance at his questioner that moved her to the depths of her soul.

"I have not yet finished," said she. "Turn your eyes upon the trees, or
perhaps you may not hear the end of my tale, and that might vex you.
When this young girl, who had not hesitated to sacrifice her hair--the
object of her constant care--the long silken tresses that encircled her
head like the diadem of a queen, and which, perhaps, were, in her
lover's eyes, her greatest embellishment--when this poor girl will have
cut--had cut them off, I should say--do you believe that her lover--you
may look at me now, Don Rafael--I give you permission--do you believe
that he would still love her as before?"

Don Rafael faced round suddenly at the question; not that he yet
comprehended its import; but the tone of melancholy in which Gertrudis
was speaking had profoundly moved him.

A tender tear--a tear of envy for the lot of this unknown, so
passionately loved--glistened in his eye, as he made reply--

"Oh, Gertrudis!" said he, "no devotion could repay such a sacrifice as
that; and the young girl you speak of, however beautiful she might be,
could not be otherwise than an angel in the eyes of her lover."

Gertrudis pressed her hand over her heart, to stay the flood of joyful
emotion that was rushing through it.

After a pause she continued, her voice quivering as she spoke--

"Once