y Christ, thy son. Through the holy church thou hast
enlightened her soul to the duties of a Christian, for in her beautiful
face shines the radiance of heaven.--Ah, senora! see me plead for
mercy! Behold the agonies which beset me, and let my sufferings unlock
the door of your heart. Let me go in peace, senora; and you shall find
in me a slave all the days of my life--the humblest and most devoted of
slaves, happy if you beat me, glorying in my slavery if you starve me,
and giving praise to Almighty God if you trample me under your feet.
Senora, senora, release me, for time is pressing--I can barely escape
if you let me go this instant. Would you have my blood on your hands?
Can you face the Virgin with that? Oh, senora--senora----"

Her head swam, and all her senses were afloat in a sea of agonies.
Still she looked down into his eyes as he continued his pleadings, but
the outlines of his body were wavering and uncertain, and inexpressible
suffering numbed her faculties. Still she listened vaguely to his
outpouring of speech; and it was not until her husband, with two of his
vaqueros, dashed up on horseback that either of these two strangely
situated sufferers was aware of his approach. Seeing him, Violante
threw her arms abroad, and the pistol went flying to the ground; and
then she sank down to the floor, and the brilliant sunshine became
night and the shining glories of the day all nothingness.

* * * * *

She awoke and found herself lying on her bed, with her husband sitting
beside her, caressing her hands and watching her anxiously. It was a
little time before she could summon her faculties to exercise and to an
understanding of her husband's endearing words; but, seeing him safe
with her, her next thought was of Velasco.

"Where is Basilio?" she asked, starting up and looking fearfully about.

"He is safe, my dear one. Think no more of Basilio, who would have
harmed my Violante. Be calm, for my sake, sweet wife."

"Oh, I can't, I can't! You must tell me about Basilio." And, in a
frightened whisper, she asked, "Did you kill him?"

"No, loved one; Basilio is alive."

She sank back upon her pillow. "God be praised!" she whispered.

Suddenly she started again and looked keenly into her husband's eyes.
"You have never deceived me," she hurriedly said; "but, Robert, I must
know the truth. Have no fear--I can bear it. For God's sake, my
husband, tell me the truth!"

Ala