I chose the one--of all
others most attuned to the tones of the loving heart--and bending low to
that fair face, and gazing into the liquid depths of those large
inquiring eyes, I whispered the sweet, though oft-repeated phrase--

"_Yo te amo_."

The words quivered upon my lips, but their tone proved the sincerity in
which I had spoken. No doubt it was further manifest by the earnestness
of my manner as I awaited her reply.

The habitual smile had departed from her lips; the damask red deepened
and mounted higher upon her cheeks; the dark fringes drooped downward,
and half-concealed the burning orbs beneath: the face of the gay girl
had suddenly assumed the serious air of womanhood.

At first, I was terrified by the expression, and could scarcely control
my dread; but I drew hope from the flushed cheek, the roseate neck, the
swelling panting bosom. Strong emotions were stirring in that breast.

Oh, what emotions! will she not speak? Will she not declare them?

There was a long interval of silence--to me, it seemed an age.

"Senor," she said at length--'twas the first time I had heard that voice
tremble--"Senor, you promised to be candid; you have been so: are you
equally _sincere_?"

"I have spoken from the depth of my soul."

The long lashes were raised, and the love-light gleamed in her liquid
eyes; for a moment it burned steadily, bathing my heart as with balm.
Heaven itself could not have shed a brighter beam upon my spirit.

All at once a smile played upon her features, in which I detected, or
fancied so, the gay _insouciance_ that springs from indifference. To me
it was another moment of pain. She continued--

"And pray, capitan, what would you have _me_ do?"

I felt embarrassed, and replied not.

"Would you have me declare that I love you?"

"Oh! you cannot--you do not--"

"You have not asked the question!"

"No, lady. I too much dread the answer."

"Ho! what a coward you have grown of late! A pity I am not masked.
Shall I draw this veil? Ha, ha, ha!"

It was not the manner of love. Love laughs not. My heart was heavy; I
made no reply, but with eyes upon the ground, sat in my saddle, feeling
like one condemned.

For some moments her laughter rang in my ears, as I fancied, in mockery.
Her sweet silvery voice only grated upon my heart. Oh, that I had
never listened to its siren tones!

I heard the hoof-stroke of her horse; and, looking up, saw that she was
moving away from the s