to
the grave. Oh! my poor, my dear father, you will soon have to fulfil
that last mournful duty towards your hapless child."

"Theodora, speak not thus; your words are daggers. We must submit to the
will of Providence--raise your streaming eyes to that heaven, my
beloved, and cherish the fond hope that this life of sorrow is to
purchase an eternity of pure uninterrupted bliss. Throw yourself into
the arms of religion, and your evils will appear lighter to bear."

"Yes, my father, now my only friend," replied Theodora, in a tumult of
agony, "I will consider my misfortunes as a just atonement to offended
heaven, for the ingratitude of which I have been guilty towards the
best of parents."

"Heaven bless thee, Theodora," returned the affectionate father, "and
restore to thee peace and tranquillity; and now grant me a request--you
must away with me."

"But whither are we going?" demanded Theodora, "I cannot--I will not
quit Granada until I see _him_ laid in the ground. I am now his wife,
and I shall religiously fulfil the duties of such a character, for cruel
as he was," she added, mournfully, "to refuse me permission to see him
when alive, he cannot prevent me from showing my attachment when he is
dead."

"Theodora," said Monteblanco, "it is not my intention to take you away
from Granada. I merely wish you to accompany me to the dwelling of our
kinsman, Don Antonio de Leyva. He has repeatedly demanded to see you,
but you have always denied his request. You surely cannot dislike him?"

"Father! father!" cried Theodora, in a tone of reproach and sadness;
"why this eagerness to renew an intimacy with a man whom I have
wronged? Think you that Theodora will be able to sustain his reproach?"

"No, Theodora, such thoughts are far from the minds of Don Antonio and
your father. But the gallant young man lies prostrate on the bed of
sickness. The wounds he received at the disastrous affair of the Sierra
Bermeja, have reduced him to the last stage of debility. He has this
very instant earnestly requested to see you; for he has something to
announce which may affect the fate of us all."

Theodora answered not, but rising immediately, signified her readiness
to obey, and supported by her father, she proceeded towards the
residence of Don Antonio. Dismay and confusion reigned throughout the
city. At every step Theodora met with some object to impress her
forcibly with the dreariness of the fate which was at hand. Busily the
mo