The count steered his boat to the usual landing-place, and hiring a caleche, proceeded directly to the western gate. Here he was detained but a moment, for the officer immediately coming out, recognized his rank, and he was allowed to pass. Impatient of delay he took the reins himself, and drove with a speed proportioned to the ardor of his licentious passion, and his vindictive yearning, by its gratification, to wreak vengeance upon her lover—whose hand he felt sure had before frustrated him. There was a near cut through a neighboring plantation, which struck a road leading to the rear of his hacienda, and saved upward of two miles in distance. As he was well acquainted with the owner of the plantation, without hesitation he took the road through it. Once or twice he thought that he heard the sound of horses’ hoofs at a rapid pace ahead of him, but the rattling of the vehicle he was in rendered the sound uncertain, and he took it for granted that he was mistaken. When he reached the rear of the building he alighted, and liberally recompensing the driver, opened the postern gate with a key he carried, and proceeded directly to the house. To the attendant who obeyed his summons, he said impatiently, “The young lady, where is she?” “In her chamber,” was the reply, and in obedience to a gesture of the count, the servant proceeded along the corridor and approached an apartment at its extremity. “Fools! Why have they put her there?” muttered the count. “Señor?” “Stand aside, sir!” and pushing by, he threw open the door and entered the apartment. As he did so, he started back appalled and terrified. Propped on a bed, catching her breath with difficulty, was a dying woman. The blood was streaming from her mouth, and at each respiration gurgled in her throat. It was the young, the once pure and lovely Esperanza, the sister of Gonzalez. By the bedside stood the brother, regarding him with a look of fixed and deadly hatred. But he moved not his arm from the sinking form it supported. The unhappy girl with staring eyes and outstretched hands, uttering inarticulate and guttural sounds, strove in vain to speak to them. In the effort the attenuated chords of life were snapped asunder, and she fell back a corpse. “Conde de Ureña,” said Gonzalez, “behold your work! I came here to protect the victim of your present plot—little dreaming of the sight that awaited me. That poor girl must be avenged! You or I, one or both, must bear Esperanza company.” As he looked toward the bed his voice softened with emotion, but recovering himself instantly, he advanced to the door and bolted it; then drawing a pair of pistols from his bosom, he sternly added as he presented them, “take your choice.” “Not now! not here! to-morrow! any time! any where else!” said the count, his cheek blanched and his brow beaded with perspiration.