* * * * * The sun is setting now, I think, although I cannot see it from my window; for all the sky without is faintly pink, and every ripple on the bay turns a blushing cheek toward the west. I must lay by my pen and watch for an opportunity to keep tryst at the gateway with my two good friends.... Nine of the clock. God help me! I waited in the garden till I heard a whistle, and stole down to the gate as before. A man put out his hand and caught at mine through the bars. It was that vile Tomas--the wretch who would have murdered my dear love! I screamed and fled, but he called after me in Spanish. The words were strange to me--but the tones of his voice and the coarse laughter needed no interpreter! As I flew across the garden, too frightened to attempt concealment, Dona Orosia stepped out into the courtyard and demanded an explanation. I knew not what to say, for I could not divulge the motive that had sent me out; but I told her that a man had called me from the gate, and when I went near to see who it might be I recognized the servant of Melinza. She seemed to doubt me at first, till I described him closely; then she was greatly angered and forbade me the garden altogether. "If I find you here alone again," she hissed, seizing my shoulder with no gentle grasp, "if I find you here again, I will turn the key upon you and keep you prisoner in your chamber." So now I dare not venture beyond the court and the balconies; and there will be no chance of speaking with Mr. Collins unless he dares to come under my window, and there is little hope of his doing that unseen, for 'tis in full view from the ramparts of the fort, where a sentry paces day and night. CHAPTER XI. August, the 7th day. When I began this tale of our captivity it was with the hope that I might find some means of sending it to friends, in this country or in England, who would interest themselves in obtaining our release. However, from what Mr. Collins told me, I feel assured that news of Mr. Rivers's capture has already been sent to their Lordships the proprietors, and this record of mine seems now but wasted labour. Yet from time to time, for my own solace, I shall add to it; and perchance, some day in safety and freedom, I and----another----may together read its tear-stained pages. This day I have completed the seventeenth year of my age. It is a double anniversary, for one year ago this night--it being the eve of our departure from England--I first set eyes upon my dear love. Can it be possible that he, in his dolorous prison, has taken account of the passing days and remembers that night--a year ago? 'Twould be liker a man if he took no thought of the date till it was past,--yet I do greatly wonder if he has forgotten. As for me, the memory has lived with me all these hours since I unclosed my eyes at dawn.