love that was our very life end in such a manner?..."

The hymn had ceased in the evangelical temple; the Catholic bell was
silent; the military music had died out at the other end of the town. A
painful silence enveloped the two lovers. To Aguirre it seemed as if the
world were deserted, as if the light had died forever, and that in the
midst of the chaos and the eternal darkness he and she were the only
living creatures.

"At least give me your hand; let me feel it in mine for the last
time.... Don't you care to?"

She seemed to hesitate, but finally extended her right hand. How
lifeless it was! How icy!

"Good-bye, Luis," she said curtly, turning her eyes away so as not to
see him.

She spoke more, however. She felt that impulse of giving consolation
which animates all women at times of great grief. He must not despair.
Life held sweet hopes in store for him. He was going to see the world;
he was still young....

Aguirre spoke from between clenched teeth, to himself, as if he had gone
mad. Young! As if grief paid attention to ages! A week before he had
been thirty years old; now he felt as old as the world.

Luna made an effort to release herself, trembling for herself, uncertain
of her will power.

"Good-bye! Good-bye!"

This time she really departed, and he allowed her to leave, lacking the
strength with which to follow her.

Aguirre passed a sleepless night, seated at the edge of his bed, gazing
with stupid fixity at the designs upon the wall-paper. To think that
this could have happened! And he, no stronger than a mere child, had
permitted her to leave him forever!... Several times he was surprised to
catch himself speaking aloud.

"No. No. It cannot be.... It _shall_ not be!"

The light went out, of its own accord, and Aguirre continued to
soliloquize, without knowing what he was saying. "It shall not be! It
shall not be!" he murmured emphatically. But passing from rage to
despair he asked himself what he could do to retain her, to end his
torture.

Nothing! His misfortune was irreparable. They were going to resume the
course of their lives, each on a different road; they were going to
embark on the following day, each to an opposite pole of the earth, and
each would carry away nothing of the other, save a memory; and this
memory, under the tooth of time, would become ever smaller, more
fragile, more delicate. And this was the end of such a great love! This
was the finale of a passion that had