ACROSS COUNTRY. On the morrow, Doña Clara appeared, if not completely recovered from her previous emotion, at least in a far more satisfactory state of health than her brother had dared to hope after the fainting fit of which he had been witness. No allusion was made, however, by one or the other to the previous evening's conversation. Doña Clara, although very pale, and excessively weak, affected gaiety and even merriment; she carried matters so far as even to take a short walk in the garden, leaning on her brother's arm. But the latter was not deceived by this conduct; he understood that his sister, vexed at having talked to him too frankly, was trying to lead him astray as to her condition, by affecting a gaiety far from her heart. Still, he did not let anything be seen, and when the great heat of the day had passed, he pretended a desire to visit the surrounding country, in order to give his sister a little liberty: taking his fusil, he mounted his horse, and rode out, accompanied by the Major-domo, who offered to act as his guide during his excursion. Doña Clara made but a faint effort to keep him at home; in her heart she was pleased to be alone for a few hours. The young man galloped across country with a feverish impatience. He was in a state of excitement, for which he could not account to himself; in spite of his egotism, he felt himself interested in his sister's misfortune; so much humble resignation involuntarily affected him, and he would have been happy to infuse a little joy into this heart crushed by grief; on the other hand, the Major-domo's singular story incessantly returned to his mind, and aroused his curiosity in the highest degree. Still he would not for anything in the world have questioned his sister about the obscure parts of this narrative, or merely let her know that he was aware of her relations with the filibusters of St. Kitts. The two men had entered the savannah territory, and talking of indifferent topics; but as the Count could not get rid of the recollection of what the Major-domo had told him, he turned sharply toward him at a certain moment. "By the way," he asked him sharply, "I have not yet seen my sister's confessor. How do you call him?" "Fray Arsenio, Excellency; he is a Franciscan monk." "Yes, that's it, Fray Arsenio. Well, why does he persist in remaining invisible?" "For an excellent reason, Excellency; the reason I had the honour of explaining to you last evening." "That is possible--I do not say you did not; but everything is so confused in my mind," he said, with feigned indifference, "that I no longer remember what you told me on the subject; you will therefore oblige me by repeating it." "That is easy, Excellency. Fray Arsenio left us at the moment when we landed, and has not reappeared at the hatto since." "That is singular: and does not Doña Clara appear alarmed and vexed at so long an absence?"