with a blush upon my cheeks, and my eyes turned
away, I hear Don Rafael say to me, `You have sent for me, Gertrudis, I
have come,' what answer can I make? Oh, father! I shall die of grief
and shame; for I shall then feel that he no longer loves me. He will
see me as I am--a ruin--only the shadow of my former self, with my
health gone, and my freshness faded. Likely enough, generosity will
prompt him to feign a love which he does not feel, and which I could not
believe in. What proof could he give that his words would only be
spoken out of compassion for me?"

"Who can tell?" said Don Mariano. "Perhaps he may give you some proof
that you cannot help believing in his sincerity."

"Do not wish it, father, if you love me; for if he should offer a proof
I cannot refuse to believe in, I feel that I should die of joy. Poor
father!" continued she, with a choking sigh, and throwing her arms round
his neck, "in either case you are likely soon to have but one daughter."

At this mournful declaration Don Mariano could no longer restrain his
grief; and returning the embrace of Gertrudis, he mingled his tears with
hers. Both wept aloud, their voices being audible to the _centzontle_,
on a neighbouring tree--that catching up the mournful tones repeated
them to the ear of night.

Just then the moon shot out from behind a thick mass of clouds, that had
hitherto been shrouding her from the sight; and the landscape,
illuminated by her silvery light, all at once assumed a less lugubrious
aspect.

The lake, as well as the forest on its shores, appeared less sombre; and
the corrugated flanks of the enchanted hill glanced with a vitreous
reflection like the greenish waves of an agitated sea. Upon the surface
of the water could be seen the dark, hideous forms of huge alligators
moving along the edge of the reeds, and now and then giving utterance to
their deep bellowing notes, as they disported themselves under the light
of the moon.

The domestics of Don Mariano, seated close together, more than once
fancied that they could distinguish the voices of human beings, and all
shivered with fear as they recalled the legend which Zefirino had just
related.

"I wish, comrades," said one of them, speaking in a tone of subdued
terror, "I wish that this night was well over. From the noises we have
heard, and those strange lights that Castrillo has seen, one might fancy
some terrible misfortune was to happen to-night! It only wants the