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The soft voice the small hand thrust under the tapojo yes, all were Narcisso's! A web of mystery was torn to shreds in a single moment. The truth did not yield gratification. No but the contrary. I was chagrined at the indifference exhibited in another quarter. "She must know that I am here, since her brother is master of the fact here, bleeding and bound. Yet where is her sympathy? She sleeps!
"That villain would naturally expect us to return here. He will have learned all that has passed: Narcisso's escape our visits. You know he would watch night and day to trap either of us." "Oh, heavens!" I exclaimed, as the memory of this man came over me; "why did I not bring more men? Clayley, we must go on now. Slowly, Raoul slowly, and with caution do you hear."
I think that the family is with the guerilla, and that accounts for our being still alive." A new light flashed upon me. In the incidents of the last twenty hours I had never once thought of Narcisso. Now all was clear clear as daylight. The zambo whom Lincoln had killed poor victim! was our friend, sent to warn us of danger; the dagger, Narcisso's a token for us to trust him.
Narcisso's promise for to-night! He at least is here. And she? perhaps occupied within gay, happy, indifferent oh!" The pain shot afresh through my heart. Suddenly the curtain was drawn aside, and a brilliant picture appeared within brilliant, but to me like the glimpse which some condemned spirit might catch over the walls of Paradise.
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