Copyright Story. Don Quixote... of Mexico.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVII, Issue VII, 17 August 1901, Page 295

Copyright Story. Don Quixote... of Mexico.

By

FERGUS HUME.

Author of “The Mystery of the Hansom Cab,” &c. >

It was a burning tropical day, and the merciless sun flamed like a furnace in the cloudless arch of the sky. Floods of amber light poured into the patio of Casa Mira mon. and accentuated the vivid hues of the flowers and fruit which filled it. Lilies of virginal whiteness floated upon the pellucid waters of the marble-rimmed pool in the centre of the tesselated pavement; golden spheres jewelled the leafy boughs of the orange trees like the fabled apples of the Hespe rides: roses, red. white and yellow, bloomed everywhere in radiant clusters; and the scarlet buds of the cardinal flower burned like fire in dusky corners. The whole patio was gorgeous with colour, heavy with perfume, and brilliant with the hot glow of sunlight. Over this floral paradise brooded the breathless silence of noonday. “Mother of God. how you love the man. Well, well, hot courting and cold marrying, say I!” The complaining voice which uttered this proverbial speech eame from an obese lady with a yellow face framed in a mantilla of filmy lace, and a portly body clothed in severe black silk. She was seated in a lounging chair near a hammock which swung low down between two marble pillars: and was addressing her remark to its occupant. This was a girl of eighteen years, with an oval olive-hued complexion. large dark eyes half concealed by heavy lids, and a bewitching mouth, scarlet as a pomegranate bud. She wore a short skirt of pale red flounced to the waist after the Spanish fashion: a mantilla fastened to her silken braids by a crimson rose, flowing over her neek and shoulders and bust so as to almost conceal their youthful curves and grace: and dainty slippers on her stockingless white feet, which were crossed over the side of the hammock. Of all the flowers in that tropical garden Dona Leonor was herself the fairest blossom. "You do not like Luis,” said she in reply to her companion’s remark. "Oh. Don Luis is well enough.” retorted the duena, waving her large black fan. “but the caibellero who adored you at the fandango is more handsome to my mind.” "The one who called himself Senor Carlos?” "Santa Ana. but you blush, my child: and why not. since he paid you so much attention?” “I have nothing to blusih for, Ursula,” cried Leonor. her colour increasing. “I accepted the politeness of Don Carlos, but he knows well that I am to marry Luis.” “Ay di mi: and cross mountains to be wedded at Guanajuato. Why can you not marry here, muchaeha?” "You know well enough, Ursula. The mother of Luis lives at Guanajuato. and is too old to come here. As she wishes to be present at our marriage I must go to her.” “There is danger in tihis journey.” prophesied Ursula. "Many robbers are in the mountains.” "\A e will have an escort. Then you will be with me. and Luis, and Padre Ttrnatius. Whv should we not be safeT’ Dona Ursula looked round fearfully. “El Cid!” said she shuddering, “he is the most terrible of these Children of Hell.” “iou are mistaken. From whaT I have heard of El CM he is better than many men who keep the law. He robs the rich only, and helps the poor: he does not slay man save in self-defence, and they say he is a good Catholic.” "Eh. that may be. Leonor: bnt he '« evil beyond telling. If he hears

that you, so great an heiress, go over the mountains. Well, good-bye to liberrv, say L”

"That which will be, will be, Ursula. But in a week I go to Guanajuato with Luis and Padre Ignatius; you can remain here if you like.” "My pet, my lamb, my heart’s blood!” cried the duena, hastily rising to embrace her charge, “I would cross the black sea to see you married: but, oh, that your groom was Don Carlos. What black eyes! what a face! what!—what—oh—“broke off t rsula. clasping her fat hands. "Mother of miracles send me such a caballero.” And with a blush at her outburst the old lady fairly ran away. Leonor laughed. She thought it wise that Ursula should invoke the Mother of miracles, since nothing less than a miracle could provide so elderly a spinster with a husband. Then, on recalling the duena’s reference to Don Carlos, her face became grave, and she blushed at her own thoughts. For over two months a mysterious young man Lad haunted her steps. In the Pasco, at the fandango she had seen him with his black eyes fixed adoringly upon her, and on several nights she had heard guitar and voice make music below the iron rejas of her window. “I throw my heart before thee, sweet. Oh, wilt thou raise it to thy lips: Or spurn it with disdainful feet?” Flattered as she was by these attentions. Leonor could not but feel remorseful at receiving them. By the wish of her dead father she had been engaged for some years to Luis Tebucio. and within the month she was to become h ; s wife. She accepted the young man more from obedience than because she loved him: but long association had created in herself a species of fictitious affection, which rendered marriage with him sufficiently tolerable. Still the looks of Carlos, the music of his voice, the sense of his continuous preserve, disturbed her not a little. She wished that the marriage with Luis was an accomplished fact. then, as a true wife, she might forget this uncomfortable romance. Otherwise—At this moment Luis eame swiftly into the patio. "Querida!” said he. kneeling beside the hammock; "all is ready: to-mor-row at dawn we leave for Guanajuato.” "I am content.” replied Leonor faintly, and strove to persuade herself that she spoke truly. But deep in her heart she felt that Nature contradicted the speech. Don Luis was neither tall nor handsome. His face was swart, his hair long and straight, hinting at Indian blood, and his eyes restless and shifty, with an aversion to look directly into those of another. Also, he was jealous, and being deeply in love with Leonor. he resented attentions paid to her by others. It was not to be expected that the behaviour of Carlos should escape his vigilance, and several times he had attempted to quarrel with the too handsome caballero. but Carlos had always pointedly avoide i a possible duel, and lately-—as if in drear! of Tebncio’s legitimate claims —he had vanished altogether. Luis now wanted to marry Leonor at once, and thus put further rivalry out of the question. Hence the arrangement to leave for Guanajuato. "Ursula has been trying to frighten me with tales of Ei Cid," said Leonor some minutes later; “he is encamped in the mountains. I hear.”

”1 am not afraid of El Cid.” replies! Luis boastfully. "He will not dare to attack us. An escort of soldiers will guard thee from harm, my beloved." Privately Leonor thought that it would be more gallant for Luis to guard her by his single arm. than to enlist the services of a squadron, but she was wise enough to keep this thought to herself. Luis looked at her doubtfully, as he disliked not being thanked for his foresight in rendering the journey safe. Doubt begot suspicion, which in its turn engendered jealousy. "That miserable has departed." said he suddenly. "Eh, what is it you say?" replied Leonor, knowing well what he hinted at, but like a woman pretending ignorance, "who is it that you talk of?” "Carlos Juarez, who has dared to insult you with his attentions.” The girl reddened and shrugged her shoulders. "All men are attentive t<> me.” said she carelessly. "They may be to Leonor Miramon.” retorted Luis fiercely, "but should they serenade Dona Tebucio. by my soul. I will have their hearts’ blood.” "And employ a bravo to get it.” flashed out Leonor. "What is this you talk of. Luis? Am I not to be your wife; do I not journey to a distant town, so that your mother may bless our wedding? What more would you have?" "Love; your love!” "You have my hand, but not my heart; my affection, not my love. As my father wished it. I marry you; so ask no more." "Carlos ’’ "Be silen’, ’miserable one!” cried Leonor. and slipped off the hammock. "Insult me vi'.h unworthy suspicions and we part. To-morrow at dawn 1 go with you to Guanajuato: unti then—" Without finishing she bowed gravely, drew her mantilla over her crimson fat- and glided away. I.nis remained and brooded gloomily. "She is fickle and vain, and easily snared.” he thought. "The good looks of this man have caught her fancy. Better to marry at once, and place her beyond his reach. As my wife he dare not —dare not —Dios!” he broke off suddenly. "I shall kill him if he as much as glances at her.” The next morning when the dawn was red in the sky a small company climbed the winding road which led into, and over, the mountains. In the diligence sat two ladies, and Don Ignatius the priest. Luis rode beside the officer in charge of the escort, and with clink of spur, rattle of sabres, and rumbling of wheels, the cavalcade went briskly upward. They passed through vineyards. purple with swelling grapes: between lines of palms, and hedges of monstrous cactus: twisted round a curve where countless orange trees glittered with golden fruit; and rode at a slower pace down a solemn avenue of cypress trees. On the crest of the near mountain. Leonor put aside the leathern curtains of the carriage to look down on the fertile plain waving with golden hued wheat, diversified by clumps of green foliaged trees, and intersected by silver streams. “How beautiful.” she sighed, “how peaceful and content. Look, father.” "An apple of gold in a network of silver." quoted the priest from the Vulgate. “Aye. my daughter. God’s earth is fair when not defaced by evil men.” “El Cid!” said Ursula, who was fearful of meeting with the redoubtable robber. "He stays in the mountains,” replied Leonor. “he does not trouble the plains.” “Ay di mi. yet it is to the mountains we go!” cried the duenna shuddering. “God watches over all." said Padre Ignatius. “Should carnal weapons fail, we must betake ourselves to spiritual.” “Sad talk for a marriage journey,” said Leonor dryly, and became silent. The sun rose up in yellow splendour. and the day waxed hot. It must have been scorching on the plains, but here in the green arcades of the mountains all was cool, calm, and silent. At mid-day. the little company halted at a wayside fonda. to lunch on coffee, fruit, omelettes, and savoury tortillas. When the glare of the skv abated to afternoon cloudiness

the cavalcade was once more set in motion, and passed into the savage and lonely passes of the range. Towards four o’clock, in a narrow defile formed by red volcanic rocks so close together that the sun’s rays could laardjy penetrate their depths, the horses of the leading dragoons stumbled over the fallen trunk of a tree. As they reared back a shout went up on ail sides, and with the noise of musketry, spurts of flame shot out from amongst the trees. ’’Caramba! an ambuscade!” shouted Luis as several horses and men fell. ’’Holy mother! El Cid!” cried Dona I rsula. and began to weep and pray. The dragoons recoiled, and unslung their rifles, but their foes had the advantage of being hidden, and while they deliberated in which direction to aim. a second volley caused further confusion in their ranks. Immediately afterwards a number of men sprang out with wild cries, and taken at a disadvantage th soldiers were beaten down. Don Luis was unhorsed, fighting like a tiger meanwhile, and speedily found himself bound with the rest of his company. Leonor sat in the diligence pale and silent, listening to the prayers of Padre Ignatius and the cries of her duena. The whole affair was over in five minutes, and they found themselves helpless in the clutches of the robbers. ’’Viva! Viva! El Cid.” cried the rough voices of the bandits. ”E 1 Cid, the son of Satan.” shrieked the terrified Ursula. “Ay di mi. I vow a pound of candles to Our Lady of Guadaloupe if she ” Before she could end her prayer the curtains of the diligence were plucked rudely aside, and as rudely the occupants were compelled to descend. They were led before a young man seated on the fallen tree, but who rose to his feet when he saw the pale beauty of Leonor. She uttered an exclamation of surprise, and even Ursula forgot her terror in recognising the redoubtable El Cid. ’’Don Carlos! Mother of God. what idiot play is this!” ’’Senora! Dona Leonor!” stammered El Cid. taking off his sombrero with a sweeping bcw. ”! knew not that it was you.” Leonor made no reply, but cold and haughty, and as silent as any statue, she stood before the man who had haunted her steps these many months. He was tall, handsome, and imperious in looks and bearing, the very model of a young Hidalgo in whose veins flowed the haughty blood of Spain. He wore buck-skin calzes, open from the hip l ' show the snow-white undertrouser. a r d >.ish round .:1s waist, and a jacket of black cloth resplendent with silver braid and ornate buttons. Altogether be looked a noble and picturesque figure as he bowed before rhe silent girl. Luis heard his name, saw the look he directed at Leonor. and ground his teeth with rage. Even with bound arms he broke from those who held him. and hurled himself before the pair. *‘A trap!” he cried, looking from -»ne to the other, “an arrangement.” -You are mistaken.” said Dona Leonor coldly, although her eyes flashed. “I knew not that Senor Carlos was EI Cid.” “Child of Satan.” moaned the duena. “Man of blood.” added the priest, and told his rosarv with rapid fingers.

El Chi looked at them both with disdain, then wheeled round to face Leonor and Don Luis. “This is your betrothed husband,” said he to the girl.

“Yes: I go to wed him in Guanajuato.” “Do you love him?” asked the bandit in a low voice. “Yes,” she replied, in a whisper, slowly and with an effort. “I—love—him." Don Carlos turned pale and his lip quivered under his dark moustache. “What you love is sacred, Senora,” he said after a pause. Luis laughed scornfully. “Chivalry in a robber,” he sneered, “lhas Don Quixote quitted romance for thieving?” "You are ungenerous, Senor,” said Carlos, wim ing at the speech. “J am an honest man,” was the tierce retort, “and should my life be spared 1 trust to see you and your fellow-scoundrels garotted in Mexico City.” “Peace, my son,” said the Padre in dignified reproof, “it becomes you not to insult those who have us in their power,”, for the good father was alarmed by the menacing looks cast by the inferior robbers on their plain spoken captive. “Santa Anita, we are all dead folk,” wept Ursula with noisy grief. “That depends upon the generosity of Don Carlos.” said Leonor in soft tones, and looked significantly at the bandit. He winced. and whitened, and flushed crimson. “What would you have me do, Senorita?” said he in a low voice. "I would have you speak privately with me.” There was a murmur at this, but Carlos, raising his head, darted an eagle look on his followers, who at once subsided into silence. Then, removing his sombrero, he took Leonor by the hand and led her with a graceful courtesy to one side, out of earshot. Luis flashed a glance of jealous rage on the pair, and writhed in impotent fury. But Father Ignatius nodded approvingly as he saw a chance of release in the action of the girl. “Don Carlos.” said Leonor. when they were alone. “I have seen you often in the Pasco, and at the fandango: and I have heard you singing at midnight under my window. Why?” El Cid raised his head proudly. “Because I love you.” “What do you call love, Senor; to capture me thus?” “No. no; by all the saints I swear that I did not know it was your party, senorita. Had I known, it would have gone free for me.” “Will it go free still?” “Senorita,” stammered Carlos much agitated. ”1 am —I am ” “You are a robber upon whose head a price is set. but you are also a noble gentleman, a good man. I have heard of your chivalrous deeds.” “Have you heard of my wrongs?” cried El Cid. with flashing eyes. “How I was despoiled and imprisoned by the Government: how I was driven forth like a wild beast and condemned to this degraded existence? What wonder that the hunted should turn hunter. 1 am no longer Carlos Juarez, the rich ranchero. I am El Cid. the bandit: 1 am Cain with my hand against every man.” , But not against every woman,” said Leonor. earnestly. ‘'Senor, you have a noble heart to which I appead. Yonder is my future husband whom I must marry by the wish of my dead father. We go to Guanajuato to fulfil that wish. You say you love me: prove that love by releasing us.” “Oh. oh,” groaned Carlos. “1 am but a man!" “The man who loves me. and to whom 1 appeal.” Something in her speech made El Cid raise his head, and he looked eagerly at her. In a moment he sprang forward and clasped hehand. "Leonor! you do not love this man." he said breathlessly. “1 am betrothed to him.” she answered with feminine evasion. “But you do not love him. I see it in your eye-; you love me- me. the outlaw, the robber. Mother of God. you will stay with me. you will b • my wife, you ” "1 shall go to Guanajuato,” inter-

rupted Leonor, “if you love me as you say. True love is unselfish.” “But this man is not worthy of you.”

"Detain me, and would you be worthy?” El Cid cast a despairing look on he, resolute face, and, dropping his head on his chest, groaned aloud. He saw that she was right; that she desired to prove the strength and purity of his boasted love. Stiil he was bu. mortal, and it was hard for him to surrender this brave and beautiful woman to one so unworthy as Luis Tebueio. Leonor, knowing how he suffered, put forward her hand and touched his arm gently. A thrill ran through him, and nerved him to the act of self-sacrifice he was cal.ed upon to make. With a sigh he straightened himself and offered her his hand.

“Senorita, my love is as boundless as the sea, as generous as that of Heaven. You and your—your future husband"—he pronounced the word with an effort—“are free.”

"Carlos!” half gladly, half sadly, she uttered the name.

She again extended her hand, and he kissed it two or three times. "Speak no more,” said he, hoarsely. “1 am not strong enough to —to Go, go, my dear one, whom 1 give to another. You are free,” and with stately grace the unfortunate lover led her back to Dona Ursula.

“Clear that tree out of the road," said he to his men. “These people go free.”

"Free!” cried Ursula. "Ah, gracious Lady of the Heavens, thou hast heard my prayer!” "Blessed be the Virgin who hath interceded for us all,” mumbled Ignatius; bur Don Luis proffered neither prayer nor thanks. He scowled on Carlos, whose generosity his base soul could not comprehend, and lookid spitefully at Dona Leonor who had saved his life.

In a short space of time the road was dear, the diligence with its occupants proceeded on its way escorted by Luis and the remaining soldiers, and El Cid, by his own generous act, was bereft of all that he held dear. And yet there was joy in his heart, for he knew well that though he had lost Leonor as a wife, he had gained her love. Their souls, noble and generous, understood one another. On arriving at Guanajuato it was discovered that the marriage could not take place immediately. The mother of Luis was too ill to attend the ceremony, and Leonor refused to be married unless she was present. Fearful lest he should lose the girl, Tebueio fell into a great rage, and insisted that she should become his wife at once, but Leonor remained firm, anil was supported in her refusal both by Padre Ignatius and the duena. Whereat Don Luis accused Leonor of deferring the marriage on account of Carlos. “You love this wretch!” he cried furiously. "1 am betrothed to you,” retorted Leonor, "and if 1 loved him 1 left him. He is a noble and good man.” "He is a robber, and I shall hunt him down.”

"What! would you plot to take his life after he spared yours?”

"Yes,” snarled Luis, whose vile temper was fully roused. "He let us go free because he loves you, and for that I hate him. I’ll catch him, and kill him as soon as I may.” “Lay one finger on him, and 1 refuse to marry you.”

"That we shall see,” sneered Luis, anil hot with rage he took his departure.

Leonor was in despair. She knew the vindictive temper of her future husband, but did not know how to protect El Cid from its fury. Luis had the law on his side, and would no doubt ride to the mountains with soldiers at his back, to capture the famous outlaw. Every day she expected to hear of El Cid’s arrest, but as time went by, and Luis showed no disposition to fulfil his threats, she breathed more freely. Carlos was safe, and Luis had forgotten his hatred. So Leonor thought; but subsequent events proved that she was wrong. In about a month Senora Tebueio recovered her health, and preparations were made for the wedding. Dona Ursula was in her element, surrounded

by an atmosphere of scandal and dressmaking, ano she frequently rallied Leonor on her wan looks. "You fret ove. that handsome El Cid,” she chattereu, "Out, Holy Mother, the lamb lies not with the wolf, say I. Your Carlos is a robbet, but Don Luis, oh, my little one, has much wealth.” "And much temper.”

Ursula snapped her finger, "Ki! Ki! Ki!” said she, "temper or no temper, a fair woman can always manage a man.”

Leonor, reflecting that the duena had never secured a chance of proving her theory, laughed at this, but was not consoled by the idea. She had long since discovered that she loved Carlos more than Luis, and contemplated the coming marriage with great aversion. However, her word was plighted and she could not break it, therefore she was prepared at all costs to keep he, promise to her dean father when fate intervened. And fate delivered her fiat by the mouth of the man she designed to injure. “To-morrow is our wedding day,” said Luis one afternoon “I intend to make you a present." “Y'ou have given me many," replied Leonor, languidly. “What is this one?” “The body of El Cid.” “What!” shrieked the girl, terror struck. "Is Carlos dead?” “He will be to-morrow by the garrotte,” said Luis, coolly. "At present he is in gaol. He was captured last night on the outskirts of the city.” “By whom? Mother of Miracles, by whom ?” “By me.” “But you have not been to the mountains?” “Not such a fool." answered Tebueio with a shrug. “No, no 1 beguiled the rascal here through his love for you.” “His love for me,” murmured Leonor, bewildered. “You —you —mean?” Luis, who had with difficulty repressed his passion, seized the frightened girl by the wrist and burst into furious speech. “I mean that your beloved Carlos thinks yon a traitress. Through him I have wounded you. Through you I have wounded him. I wrote him a letter signed with your name.” ‘•‘Ah, villain!” “That letter entreated him to meet you on the outskirts of Guanajuato, near the old adobe prison house; begged him to save yon from a marriage with me; promised him to leave all for his sake. What lover could resist such an appeal? He came and was met by myself and a dozen soldiers. Now he is in that prison house and dies on the day you become my wife.” “This is your revenge?” gasped Leonor. breathlessly "On him only. My revenge on you comes after marriage. Y’ou shall learn what it means to trick me,” and casting .her from him Don Luis rushed furiously from the room. He was triumphant and his rival was in his power, doomed to a cruel death; but it was bitter for him to see bow Leo-

nor lamented for tue luckless lover. When alone Leonor sat down to think. The fiery blood of her Castilian ancestors burned in her veins at the insults she had received Come what may she was determined never to marry the man who had betrayed so generous a rival. In a few moments her resolution was taken and she sent for a faithful peon servant whom she could trust. It was useless to appeal to priest or duena, as she knew well that they would side with the enemies of Don Carlos. Henceforth his enemies were hers, and she resolved that the lying letter which had decoyed him to his death should be proved true.

That night El Cid sat in a small cell of the adobe prison house, sad and spiritless. He was bound with raw hide and well guarded, and as the gaol was presumed to be safe he had been left there for the time being instead of being taken to the more modern prison within the city gates. The poor man was much dejected, as he thought that Leonor had returned evil for good by betraying him. The moon shone in through a slightly barred window which overlooked some precipitous rocks—a gulch so dangerous that there was no guard on that side of the prison. Carlos had looked out several times, but owing to the great height eould see no chance of escape. “And if I did escape, what use.” he thought, “since she is false?”

Even as this idea passed through his mind he heard a splintering noise, and an arrow, white feathered, shot in through the window bars. El Cid, who could move his feet, struggled towards it and found a thin piece of steel, sharp as a razor, bound to its head. At once he guessed that friends were without, ready to assist him to escape, and by rolling on his back he was able to grip the steel in his fingers. With some difficulty he managed to saw through the raw hide and free his hands; then he liberated his feet, and afterwards made the further discovery that a silken thread was attached to the arrow. This he drew in carefully. It was succeeded by string, the string by a thin rope, that by a thick one; until at length the means of escape were furnished to him. Looking through the window he saw two men and two horses on the other side of the gulch. “Pepe and Jose.” cried Carlos, thinking of two of his band. “Brave men. they must have heard of my capture and come to aid me.”

I he moonlight vanished from his cell, but this was all the better for the prisoner. By sheer force he wrenched two bars out of the window, and having fixed the rope to the iron handle of the door, he thrust his body through the aperture. In a moment he was swinging over the black depths of the gulch, but. nerved by the hope of escape, he dropped rapidly hand over hand down the rope. On reaching the broken ground at the foot of the precipice he glanced up at the frowning wall of the prison, but. seeing no lights and hearing no

noise, he concluded that the guards had not discovered his flight. By this time the moon had hidden her'light behind Imavy cloude, and in the darkness Carlos *O scramble as he best could across the dry river bed. With some difficulty and many knocks he managed to reach the opposite cliff, and as this was formed of tumbled rocks entangled with tough creepers, he soon swung himself up to the higher level. As he reached it he saw one of the two men running forward to meet him, and stood stock-still in sheer astonishment. “Leonor!” he cried faintly, “ you here.” It was the girl herself in male attire with sombrero and serape. She looked like a handsome boy, flushed and excited; but had sufficient selfcommand to draw her lover into the shadow, near the horses, before giving him an explanation. Carlos suffered himself to be so conducted, for he wns still too puzzled to comprehend the reason of her unexpected appearance. “Leonor!” he repeated, “you freed me, you who betrayed me!” “No, no, querido,” said the girl passionately. “I did not write that lying letter; it was Luis who wrote it, to decoy you to your death.” “Luis! he decoyed me: the traitor. Alas, and he is to be your husband.” “Never! Carlos, my soul, it is you alone I shall wed.” “1! an outlaw, a pauper!” “Yes; I give up all for you I love you! I love you! Hear me, I love you, and this night we fly to your mountains.” Carlos stepped forward with a cry of joy to clasp her to his breast, then stopped with a groan. "Heart of my heart, 1 dare not accept so great a sacrifice.” “I love you!” repeated Leonor. “Querida! 1 can give you nothing but misery.” “I love you,” she said again, and threw herself on his breast. “I go with you to the mountains. I give up all for you. But listen: Padre Ignatius has influence with the Government, and he is fond of me. It may be that in a few months you will be pardoned, and then with me—with your wife—you can return to the Casa Miramon. Dearest, you are mine.” Carlos hesitated no longer.' All the passion of his nature broke forth at this great love: and ardently he clasped her to his breast. “Soul of my soul. I adore you, I worship you, God so deal with me as I with you—Hah!" he stopped suddenly as a rattle of musketry was heard. It came from the prison. "Nour flight is discovered,” cried Leonor, disengaging herself. “Quick, quick! let us mount. Antonio!” to the peon, “here is the money I promised you. Make for the city, and be silent on your life. Carlos! Querido! Away! Away!” IN ith a laugh of triumph she swungherself into the saddle, and El Cid followed her example, wild with joy when he felt the mustang rear and plunge beneath him. Lights were moving on the opposite side of the gulch, bugles were blowing to call the soldiers to the pursuit; but, like loosened arrows, the horses shot ■‘cross the plains towards the distant hills. Side by side the lovers, thrilled with wild excitement, urged their mustangs to racing speed. The soft airs oi the night breathed in their aees, perfumes exhaled round them ‘ r om myriad flowers; and the moon bathed them in her silver splendour. Jt was the supreme and crowning moment of their lives. h on?’"> t l ?° U , Lu!a? ” Carlos, without slackening the pace, “he should be punished for his treachery.” “lm H bn iS l P ". nishe<l ’'’ la «k>-hed Leonor, s mil ; lost " ,e - W Hhin a week he shall learn that I have married the of Mexico n ° n Q ,lix °te Wy qUeridU> U,HI yOU out e s °ingmgT Seil her hea<l niul bum ‘ Bln'™ >OU , k !’ ow 'he name T bear’ I am "*>• »•» Ahn! Ola! Ola! Ola! I 8m Manuel's duchCßal’*-