LITMIR.BIZ

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make here! What a magnificent landscape!"

      Speaking thus, the young man directed his steps towards the two partisans, before whom he found himself just at the last word of his "aside." He bowed to them, with a smile on his face.

      "You wish to speak to me, gentlemen?" said he. "Can I be of any service to you?"

      "You can," answered Zeno Cabral, smiling, "render me a service for which I should be ever grateful."

      "Although I am ignorant as to what you expect of me, and what is the service you are about to ask of me, I do not wish to abuse your confidence, and to deceive you. It is well that we should thoroughly understand our position."

      "What do you mean, señor?" asked Don Zeno, with a start of surprise.

      "I will explain. You doubtless do not recognise me, señor. I confess that at first, when I came to your help, I did not know who was the man whose life I had saved; but now I recognise you as Don – "

      "Sebastiao Vianna, a Portuguese officer, a friend and aide-de-camp of General the Marquis de Castelmelhor," quickly interrupted Don Zeno.

      "Parbleu! Why hesitate? I by no means conceal my name; I have no reason for making a mystery of it. Don Pablo knows that – a devoted friend of the marchioness and her daughter – my mission has no other design than the conducting them safely to the general."

      "There is nothing but what is very honourable in this mission," chimed in the Pincheyra, "and with God's help the colonel will accomplish it."

      "I hope so," answered Don Zeno.

      "Just so," answered the young man, taken aback by what he heard.

      "Ah!" murmured he, "Whom do they think they are deceiving?"

      "Is that all you wished to say?" continued Don Zeno.

      "Yes, that is all," answered the painter, bowing.

      "Very well," pursued the partisan with an agreeable smile, "I did not expect less from your courtesy; but what you do not wish to state, it is for me to make known, and to avow boldly."

      "Your conduct towards me, Don Emile," he continued – "you see I remember your name – is so much the handsomer and more generous, inasmuch as mine, in appearance at least, is not in your estimation free from blame. At our first meeting, I wished, I believe, if my memory is faithful, to arrest you as a spy."

      "I thank you for this frankness, señor," answered the young man, smiling.

      "You misunderstand me, caballero," pursued the partisan with animation, "and that does not surprise me. You cannot understand the strange and abnormal position that we Southern Americans occupy at this time. I speak decisively, because I expect a last service, or, if you prefer to call it so, a last proof of your generosity."

      Emile Gagnepain was a thoroughly clear-sighted man. The deliberate manner of the partisan who, while passing lightly over the details, yet confessed his errors, pleased him by its very eccentricity.

      "Speak, Don Sebastiao," he answered; "I shall be happy to render you the service that you expect, if it is in my power."

      "I know it, and I thank you for it, señor. I will state what it is in a few words."

      "Speak, señor," answered the young man, his curiosity excited by such long preambles.

      Don Zeno appeared for some time a prey to uncertainty and indecision; but, overcoming his feelings, whatever they were, he cast a look to where Don Pablo Pincheyra was apathetically smoking a cigarette, without appearing in any way to concern himself with the conversation.

      "Here is the fact in a few words," he said; "Don Pablo Pincheyra, my friend, has informed me that you accompanied the Marchioness de Castelmelhor and her daughter, when his brother conducted them to Casa-Frama."

      "That is true," gravely answered the painter; "these ladies did me the honour to accept me as guide."

      "Then you are devoted to them?" decisively asked the partisan.

      The painter did not wince; he suspected a snare.

      "Pardon," he said, in a tone of kindliness, impossible to describe. "Before going any further, let us understand each other thoroughly, caballero. You say, do you not, that I am devoted to these unfortunate ladies?"

      "Is it not true?" added the Pincheyra.

      "To a certain extent it is, señor. These ladies required aid; I was near them, and they claimed mine. To refuse them would neither have been gallant nor in good taste. I, therefore, acceded to their wishes; but you know as well as anyone, Don Pablo, that yesterday, having learnt that they had no further need of me, I took leave of them."

      "Hum I that is awkward," murmured Zeno Cabral. "Had you, then, serious reasons for acting thus?"

      "Not precisely, señor; I have always acted in good faith with these ladies."

      There was a long silence between the three speakers. The tone of the young painter was so artless and decidedly frank, that Don Zeno, notwithstanding all his skill, could not ascertain whether he gave expression to his real thoughts, or was deceiving him.

      "I am disheartened by what you tell me, as I intended to ask you to do me a service."

      "With regard to these ladies?" said the young man, with astonishment.

      "A service for which, by the by, I should be extremely grateful."

      "I do not see in what I can serve you, señor."

      "But I do. Look here, my dear sir; we are playing with our cards under the table."

      "I do not know why you speak thus, señor; my policy towards you should, I think, be sufficient to place me above suspicion of treachery," answered he.

      "These ladies," Don Zeno continued, "whether rightly or wrongly, I will not discuss with you, imagine that they are surrounded by enemies determined on their destruction. Perhaps, if I presented myself to them, their mind, embittered by misfortunes, would see in me, whom they know but imperfectly, instead of a sure friend and a devoted servant, one of their enemies."

      "Oh," cried the painter, haughtily, "what is that you are saying, señor? Are you not the aide-de-camp of General the Marquis de Castelmelhor?"

      "That is true," answered the partisan, with embarrassment.

      "Well, it seems to me, caballero, that that position ought to serve as a safeguard."

      "Well, it probably would do so – at least I hope so. Unfortunately, reasons of the highest importance necessitate my trusting to someone else. That other – "

      "Is to be me, is it not?" quickly interrupted the young man. "That is what you wanted to propose, caballero?"

      "Whom could I choose if not you, señor? – you who know these ladies, and they have full confidence in you."

      "Unhappily, caballero, my consent is necessary in this matter, and I have already had the honour to say, if not to you, at least to Don Pablo, that I do not feel at all disposed to continue, in respect to these ladies, the part that I have played for nearly a month. I am much concerned for them, but I must withdraw my support from them."

      This tirade was uttered by the young man with such comic desperation, that the two partisans could not prevent themselves from laughing.

      "Come, come," answered Don Zeno; "you are an excellent companion, and I see with pleasure that I was not deceived in you. Reassure yourself; the mission that I wish to confide to you is by no means perilous."

      "Hum! Who knows?" murmured the young man.

      "I give you my word, as a gentleman," resumed Don Zeno, "that when you arrive you will be free, and nobody will molest you."

      "Hum! Hum!" again murmured the young man.

      "Ah!" suddenly exclaimed Don Pablo Pincheyra, rising. "Why, then, my dear Don Sebastiao, do you not continue the escort of these ladies?"

      "Have I not acquainted you," responded Don Zeno, "with the message which was given to me by the cavalier who met us on our first departure from the camp?"

      "That is true," said Don Pablo,

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