The Heart's Secret; Or, the Fortunes of a Soldier Part 27

"In vain have I struggled on, in vain strove to forget; it was impossible; and yet, never until you sent me that note, have I frankly acknowledged, even to my own heart, the feeling which I have so long been conscious of. Ah, it has been a bitter experience that I have endured, and now I can see it all in its true light, and own to thee freely, that I have loved even from the first."

While she had spoken thus, Lorenzo Bezan had gently conducted her to a couch, and seated by her side he had held her hand while he listened and looked tenderly into the depths of her l.u.s.trous and beautiful eyes. He felt how cheaply he had earned the bliss of that moment, how richly he was repaid for the hards.h.i.+ps and grief he had endured for Isabella's sake.

"Ah, dearest, let us forget the past, and live only for each other and the future."

"Can you so easily forget and forgive?" she asked him, in softest accents.

"I can do anything, everything," he said, "if thou wilt but look ever upon me thus," and he placed his arms about that taper waist, and drew her willing form still nearer to his side, until her head fell upon his shoulder. "There will be no more a dark side to our picture of life, dear Isabella."

"I trust not."

"And you will ever love me?"

"Ever!" repeated the beautiful girl, drawing instinctively nearer to his breast.

At that moment, Ruez, returning from the Plato to procure some article which he had left behind, burst hastily into the room, and, blus.h.i.+ng like a young girl at the scene that met his eye, he was about to retire hastily, when Lorenzo Bezan spoke to him, not the least disconcerted; he felt too secure in his position to realize any such feeling:

"Come hither, Ruez, we have just been speaking of you."

"Of me?" said the boy, rather doubtfully, as though he suspected they had been talking of matters quite foreign to him.

"Yes, of you, Ruez," continued his sister, striving to hide a tell-tale blush, as her eyes met her brother's. "I have been telling General Bezan what a dear, good brother you have been to me--how you have ever remembered all his kindnesses to me; while I have thought little of them, and have been far from grateful."

"Not at heart, sister," said the boy, quickly; "not always in your sleep, since you will sometimes talk in your day dreams!"

"Ah, Ruez, you turned traitor, and betray me? well, there can be little harm, perhaps, to have all known now."

"Now?" repeated Ruez. "Why do you use that word so decidedly?"

"Why, you must know, my dear Ruez," said the general, "that a treaty has been partially agreed upon between us, which will necessarily put all hostilities at an end; and, therefore, any secret information can be of no possible use whatever."

"Is it so, Isabella?" asked Ruez, inquiringly, of his sister.

"Yes, brother, we are to 'bury the hatchet,' as the American orators say."

"Are you in earnest? but no matter; I am going-let me see, where was I going?"

"You came into the room as though you had been shot out of one of the port-holes of Moro Castle," said the general, playfully. "No wonder you forget!"

The boy looked too full for utterance. He shook the general's hand, heartily kissed Isabella, and telling them he believed they had turned conspirators, and were about to perpetrate some fearful business against the government, and sagely hinting that unless he was also made a confidant of, he should forthwith denounce them to Tacon, he shook his hand with a most serious mock air and departed.

It would be in bad taste for us, also, not to leave Isabella and Lorenzo Bezan alone. They had so much to say, so much to explain, so many pictures to paint on the glowing canva.s.s of the future, with the pencils of hope and love, that it would be unfair not to permit them to do so undisturbed. So we will follow Ruez to the volante, and dash away with him and Don Gonzales to the Paseo, for a circular drive.

"I left General Bezan and Isabella together in the drawing-room,"

began Ruez to his father, just as they pa.s.sed outside of the city walls.

"Yes. I knew he was there," said the father, indifferently.

"That was a very singular affair that occurred between him and the Countess Moranza."

"Queer enough."

"Yet sister says that the general was not to blame, in any respect."

"Yes, I took good care to be satisfied of that," said the father, who had indeed made it the subject of inquiry. "Had he been guilty of deceiving that beautiful and high-born lady, he should never have entered my doors again. I should have despised him."

"He seems very fond of Isabella," continued the boy, after a brief silence.

"Fond of her!"

"Yes, and she of him," said Ruez.

"Lorenzo Bezan fond of my daughter, and she of him?"

"Why, yes, father; I don't see anything so very strange, do you?"

"Do I? Lorenzo Bezan is but a nameless adventurer--a--a--"

"Stop, father--a lieutenant-governor, and the queen's favorite."

"That is true," said Don Gonzales, thoughtfully. "Yes, but he's poor."

"How do you know, father?"

"Why, it is but reasonable to think so; and my daughter shall not marry any one with less position or fortune than herself."

"As to position, father," continued the boy, "General Bezan wears orders that you would give half your fortune to possess!"

"I forgot that."

"And has already carved a name for himself in Spanish history," said Ruez.

"True."

"Then I see not how you can complain of him on the score of position."

"No; but he's poor, and I have sworn that no man, unless he brings as large a fortune as Isabella will have in her own right, shall marry her. How do I know but it may be the money, not Isabella, that he wants?"

"Father!"

"Well, Ruez."

"You are unjust towards the n.o.ble nature of that man; there are few men like him in the queen's service, and it has not required long for her to discern it." As the boy spoke, he did so in a tone and a manner that almost awed his father. At times he could a.s.sume this mode, and when he did so, it was because he felt what he uttered, and then it never failed of its influence upon the listener.

"Still," said Don Gonzales, somewhat subduedly, "he who would wed my peerless child must bring something besides t.i.tle and honor. A fortune as large as her own-nothing else. This I know Lorenzo Bezan has not, and there's an end of his intimacy with your sister, and I must tell her so this very evening."

"As you will, father. You are her parent, and can command her obedience; but I do not believe you can control Isabella's heart,"

said Ruez, earnestly.