image of Theodora,--but, alas! how changed! A short time only had flown
since last he saw her, and yet so altered was that form, that were it
not for a consciousness of guilt, with difficulty he would have
recognised her whom he had once idolized. Gomez Arias thrilled as he
gazed on the nocturnal visitor; in her pale features could be traced no
sympathy with life; a clammy dampness bedewed her brows; a chilling
apathy sat upon her countenance. One of her hands now mechanically fell
on the feverish breast of Don Lope, and the cold, cold touch imparted a
thrill of horror.

In speechless amazement Gomez Arias looked on the mournful figure, and
in her glazed eye he beheld one large tear, that, overwhelming the
eye-lid, dropt heavily on his hand. It was the tear of anguish, and the
drop, as it moistened the hand of Gomez Arias, awakened in his heart a
sad remembrance of violated love and truth.

The first impression of astonishment had now subsided, and Don Lope, in
a broken voice, exclaimed--"Theodora! Heavens! is it thou?"

"Yes," she answered, gloomily, "it is the lost, the wretched Theodora,
once the object of thy adoration, and now thy curse. But tremble not;
the dreadful moment is passed, and I cannot harm thee; for though thou
hast cruelly betrayed me, thou art _still_ Gomez Arias."

"How came you hither?" demanded Don Lope, with emotion: "What was your
intention?"

"Behold!" she replied, with a bitter smile, pointing to the dagger that
shone on the ground; "I came to kill thee--I came to deal out a reward
but little adequate to the pangs to which thy treachery has eternally
condemned me. Oh! Lope! Lope! why didst thou not take from me this
wretched life when I was no longer dear to thy heart? I should then have
been happy!--Thou didst not--but cruelly left me to the mercy of
strangers, when I had _none_ to look upon in life but thee."

All the feelings of an injured, yet fond woman now flowed uncontrolled
over that heart where the stormy passions had raged before. She sobbed
convulsively, and a shower of tears relieved her breaking bosom. Her
weeping countenance was upon her lover's breast, and as he contemplated
her deep anguish, and the wreck of those charms which, but for him, had
still shone in their native grace, a ray of pity dawned upon his heart,
callous as he was. There was something so peculiarly distressing in the
situation of the unfortunate girl, that all the glowing considerations
of ambition fad