"Away, then!" said the young Inea, "I will follow betimes. Insensate fool!" continued he, as he watched the departing footsteps of the other, "thou art like all thy race, who welcome destruction when it comes beneath a glittering guise! But why should I blame thee more than the rest, when wiser and older men have yielded to the fatal lure? Hearken, my Oneiza; my soul is sad within me, but it is for thee chiefly that I fear. Thou hast not been long with me, Oneiza, but were I to lose thee, the light of my life were gone. Promise me, then, that whatever may befall our unhappy country, we never shall be separated--that in death as in life we may be together--and sweet, oh unutterably sweet, would that death which should find me clasped in thy arms!" "Oh Manco, Manco! canst thou doubt?" "No; I never doubted. But my heart misgives me as to the issue. See, Oneiza,--this plain is not all the world. Beyond these mountains are valleys and broad savannahs where the foot of the invader can never come. I have seen them as I hunted the fierce jaguar on the hills; and even amidst all the magnificence of our own stately city, I have sighed for a hut by the side of some lonely stream, with thee for my sole companion. If the day should come when ruin bursts upon us, wouldst thou, Oneiza, tender nurtured as thou art, be prepared to leave all, and follow thy husband into the depths of the unknown wilderness? There are dangers, Oneiza, but love will watch over us!" "Were this Eden, my husband, and the valley of Hinnom lay beyond, I am thine--thine--thine for ever!" "Oh say no more, my darling, my love, my own, my sweet! Were all the world my kingdom, I'd lay it at thy feet. What treasure could I offer to buy a heart like thine? My soul is strong within me like a giant's stirred with wine! I boast the blood of him who met and smote the Philistine! Come on then, dearest--dearest, come! together let us go. The lights are flashing from the towers, the evening star is low!" * * * * * Along with the foregoing MS. I received the following note from the Spaniard. "I don't relish your chapter much. It is palpable cribbage in many parts, and those absurd patriotic prejudices of yours have brought you into a scrape. I've met with a character very much like your mercenary Scot before. I should have brought him into this chapter, only I don't comprehend the northern gibberish, and you have forgotten to nominate your heathen. I shall say nothing about mine, except this, that it is eminently touching, pathetic, and original. Match it if you can."