ards them his patriotic propensities by the force of his bites and
kicks. There was likewise the awful and sanctified figure of the apostle
_Santiago_, riding like a whirlwind through the air, on his milk-white
horse, and accomplishing in his progress those wonderful and miraculous
deeds which have so much embellished the pages of the old legends, and
from whose rich sources the romancers have derived such heroic spirit
and power. The portraits of the Catholic Ferdinand, and his noble spouse
Isabella, were also there, together with many other Christian sovereigns
and warriors, who had played conspicuous parts in the history of their
country.

Theodora unconsciously wandered along until she had nearly reached the
extremity of the gallery, when, as she was about to return, her eye
suddenly alighted on a figure that thrilled the inmost fibres of her
frame. It was _him_ she saw, so truly portrayed and so exact in every
lineament, that the painted canvas seemed endowed with life. Gomez Arias
was there; his bold demeanor, his proud smile, the intelligent glance of
his eye--all, all was religiously preserved in that inanimate
counterpart of living reality. Theodora gazed and gazed, until her
dilated eyes seemed ready to start from their orbits. The unfortunate
girl was rivetted to the spot, for she felt a melancholy pleasure in
dwelling on the semblance of those handsome features. She descried all
the graces of her lover in that perfect memorial of him, and her own
vivid imagination imparted to it life and passion. She stood before the
picture, till she fancied her lover present, earnestly gazing on her
immovable form, and she felt a portion of that happiness which he never
failed to create when he whispered the ardent vows of everlasting love.

Theodora remained some time plunged in a tide of feeling, painful yet
pleasing, and in the recollection of past scenes she almost forgot the
horrid fate of Gomez Arias. She gazed, and in the height of her
enthusiasm she was happy; but, alas! how short, how transient was the
delusion which, when dissolved, would tend to sink her deeper in
affliction! The brazen, heavy voice of the cathedral bell suddenly broke
the magic charm. Theodora started from her reverie, and all again became
a chaos of misery and despondence.

The pageant was now returning from the Cathedral, and once more the
tolling of bells and the martial strains rung in the air. Theodora,
unwilling to betray her situation