the other hand it was imperatively demanded by
circumstances that Gomez Arias and Theodora should never meet again;
for, alas! such a meeting could be productive only of reproach and shame
to the former--anguish, despair, and perhaps death to the latter.

Theodora, meantime, read in the agitated countenance of the valet a tale
of distress more cruel than any she had yet endured; whilst Roque, who
trembled lest, by an imprudent continuance of his interview with
Theodora, they might be surprised by Gomez Arias, summoned up his
resolution, and determined at once to acquaint her with her lover's
treason:--"Lady!" he exclaimed with emphasis, "in the name of God,
endeavour to brace your nerves against the dreadful intelligence I have
to communicate.--You must forget him for ever;--nay, if you consult the
happiness of all those that are interested in your welfare or in his,
you will decide never to see him more."

"What mean you?" demanded Theodora, with redoubled agitation.

"Your lover is false, lady; you must fly to your parent, or encounter
the peril of being immured in the gloomy seclusion of a convent. Such
were my master's intentions towards you, when the arrival of the Moors
happened in time to frustrate them. Should he, however, learn that you
are at Granada, where your presence may throw invincible impediments in
his way, the knowledge would be perhaps attended with disastrous
results. I am a poor man, a butt to sustain my master's ill humors, but
I will not so far dishonor my feelings as to permit the possibility of
your being exposed a second time to the dreaded manoeuvres of Gomez
Arias. Fly, lady, fly to your kind parent."

Theodora fixed a wild look on Roque, and the horrid nature of his
recital seemed to have frozen the springs of feeling. She did not speak,
nor was any passion, save that of despair, depicted on her countenance;
a settled stupor sat upon her pallid brow, and shone in the cold glance
of her eyes.

Roque was moved by the picture of loveliness that stood before him,
motionless in the intensity of grief; but he was conscious of the
danger he incurred by protracting his stay.

"Alas!" he said in a soothing tone, "you are very, very unfortunate; but
consider, lady, the consequences of our being seen together. Allow me to
retire, then, and command my services; but, oh, do not by any means
appear before----"

He was interrupted by Theodora, who suddenly started before that
dreadful name once so