earth close to the path which the procession was following. It seemed
like the voice of some one in pain, and calling for deliverance or
mercy. Gertrudis trembled with affright as she nestled closer within
the curtains of the _litera_.

"Do not be alarmed," said Don Rafael; "it is nothing you need fear; only
the voice of the monster Arroyo praying to be set free. He is lying
over yonder upon the sand, bound hand and foot. He is still living; and
to you, Gertrudis, does he owe his life. This assassin of my father--
whom for two years I have pursued in vain--but a moment ago was about to
receive death at my hands when your messenger arrived. I hesitated not,
Gertrudis. It was but too much happiness to keep my oath. I cut the
cords that attached him to the tail of my horse--in order that I should
come to you the sooner."

Gertrudis, almost fainting, allowed her head to fall back upon the
pillow; and as Don Rafael, frightened at the effect of his
communication, bent closer to the _litera_, he heard murmured in a low
voice, the sweet words--

"Your hand, Rafael! Oh! let me thank you for the happiness you have
given me, a happiness that no words can describe."

And Don Rafael, his frame quivering with exquisite emotion, felt the
soft pressure of her lips upon the hand which he had hastened to offer.

Then, as if abashed by this ardent avowal of her passion, the young girl
suddenly closed the curtains of the _litera_, to enjoy in secret, and
under the eye of God alone, that supreme felicity of knowing that she
was beloved as she herself loved--a felicity that had, as it were,
restored her life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Like phantoms which have been called up by the imagination--like the
unreal shadows in a dream, which one after another vanish out of sight--
so the different personages in our drama, whose sufferings, whose loves,
and whose combats we have witnessed, are all gradually disappearing from
the scene where we have viewed them for the last time--Don Fernando and
Marianita on their funereal bier; Gertrudis, in her _litera_, restored
to new life; Don Rafael, Don Mariano, and his followers.

Don Cornelio, Costal, and Clara had already gone far from the spot; and
soon the last horseman of the Colonel's escort, forming the rearguard of
the procession, had filed through the belt of cedrela trees--leaving the
Lake Ostuta apparently as deserted as if human fo