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At an early hour for such was the custom of the hacienda all the guests had retired to their sleeping apartments even the domestics were no longer to be seen in the great hall; and a profound silence reigned throughout the vast building, as if all the world had gone to rest. But all the world was not yet asleep. Alone in his chamber, Tiburcio awaited impatiently the hour named by Rosarita.
There was in these last words a sort of tacit avowal which Tiburcio evidently did not comprehend for he continued his reproaches and bitter recriminations, causing the young girl many a sigh as she listened to them. "Of course you love this Senator," said he. "Do not talk, then, of being compelled!" "Who talks of being compelled?" said Rosarita, hastily interrupting the young man.
And he advanced a step forward, then paused; the poor young man did not entertain a hope. "By what miracle of heaven do I find you here?" he cried. "I come every evening, Tiburcio," replied the young girl. This time Fabian began to tremble more with love than hope. We have seen that Rosarita, in her last interview with Fabian, chose rather to run the risk of death than confess that she loved him.
No doubt Tiburcio would soon have succumbed before two such formidable antagonists, but at this moment a red light flashed upon the combatants, as Dona Rosarita, with a flaming torch in her hand, rushed forward between them.
"Of the Count Mediana?" repeated Don Augustin. "Yes," cried Rosarita, passionately; "I still love in him Tiburcio Arellanos, however noble, powerful, and rich may be at this hour Count Fabian de Mediana." Noble, powerful, and rich, are words that sound well in the ear of an ambitious father, when applied to a young man whom he loves and esteems, but whom he believes to be poor.
Sadness had again taken possession of his soul, through which the quick burst of anger had passed as lightning though a sombre sky. "Very likely," said he, with a melancholy smile, "it is the spirit of some poor lover who has died from despair." "Santisima Virgen!" exclaimed Rosarita, making the sign of the cross. "You make me afraid, Tiburcio.
Considering the immense heritage that the Dona Rosario or, as she was more gracefully called, Rosarita was likely to bring to whoever should become her husband, it was natural that an alliance with Don Augustin should be the object of many an ambition; in fact her beauty without the grand fortune which, at her father's death, she was to become mistress of would of itself have been enough to have challenged a crowd of pretenders to her hand.
However, at the expiration of six months, it was determined to put an end to the uncertainty by sending to the Presidio for information concerning the expedition commanded by Don Estevan. It was the last respite that poor Rosarita had ventured to demand.
When Tiburcio had first met Dona Rosarita, with her father and his servants, in the depth of the forest, he knew nothing of the rank of the party thus wandering astray. Even during the two happy days in which he acted as their guide, he was ignorant of the name of the beautiful young girl, to whom his eyes and his heart rendered a continual homage.
Dona Rosarita could not quite suppress a sigh: perhaps she expected to be reminded of a familiar name. Gayferos continued the recital of various facts with which the reader is already acquainted. "Alas, Senorita," he continued, "the poor young man was himself captured by the Indians, and his punishment was to avenge the death of their companions."
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