"Deceive you? I?" she cried, with sudden energy. "Indeed, indeed, I mean
it, as I said it."
"Yes--but--but if, to-morrow--" Again his voice was failing, and she was
hand to hand with death, for him.
"No! There shall be no to-morrow for that--it shall be now!"
"Now? To-day? Now?"
He seemed to rise and sink, and sink and rise again, on the low-surging
waves of his life's ebbing tide.
"Yes--now!" she answered. "This moment Don Teodoro is in the house--I
will call him--let me go for a moment--only one moment!"
"No--no! Do not leave me!" He clung frantically to her hand.
"But--yes--call him--call him! And Taquisara. He is my friend--Oh! It
kills me to let you go!"
It was indeed the very supreme moment. The great burst of happiness had
almost killed him, and he was like a child, not knowing what he wanted.
Still he clutched her hand. A quick thought crossed her mind. She had
gone to the window for a moment, to fasten it back, and had seen
Taquisara walking under the vines. He might be there.
"Let me go to the window," she said, regaining her self-possession.
"Taquisara may be on the bastion--I saw him there. He will call Don
Teodoro, and I shall not have to leave you."
Any reasoning which kept her by his side was divinely good. Her words
calmed him a little, and his hands gradually loosened themselves. But as
she turned quickly, he uttered a very low cry, and tried to catch her
skirt. She did not hear him.
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