They had not long been seated in the box when they were joined by Augustus Horton, who placed himself at the back of the chair occupied by Camillia. She was not a little surprised at this, after the interview of that morning, and the terrible and insulting repulse which the young planter had received. While she was wondering what could have induced him to forget this, he bent his head and whispered in her ear-- "Let us forget all that passed this morning, Donna Camillia," he said; "forget and forgive my presumption as I forgive your cruelty! Let us be what we were before to-day, friends and friends only." Camillia raised her eyes to his face with a glance of surprise. Was this the man whose words that morning had breathed rage and vengeance? Had she wronged him in imagining him vindictive and treacherous? Don Juan knew nothing of his daughter's rejection of Augustus Horton. He imagined, therefore, from the planter's presence in the box, that his suit had prospered. About half an hour after the rising of the curtain, a letter was brought by one of the boxkeepers addressed to Don Juan Moraquitos. "Who gave you this?" asked the Spaniard. "A colored lad, sir, who said he was to wait for an answer," replied the boxkeeper. "Tell him I will see to it." The man left the box and Don Juan opened the letter. It was from Silas Craig, and contained only a couple of lines, requesting to see his employer without delay, on business of importance. Don Juan rose to leave the box. "I am never permitted to enjoy the society of my only daughter for a few hours without interruption," he said, bending gently over Camillia. "I am summoned away on some annoying business, but I will not be gone long, darling." "But how long, dearest father?" "An hour at most. Meanwhile I leave you in the care of Mr. Horton." "I accept the trust," answered Augustus, with enthusiasm. In spite of the letter she had that morning received, Camillia, found it impossible to simulate a gayety which she did not feel. She was silent and absent-minded, and replied in monosyllables to the gallant speeches of her admirer. She was thinking of the events of the day--Pauline Corsi's promise and the letter from Paul Lisimon. Once in looking downward at the crowd of faces in the pit of the theatre, she recognized one which was turned to the box in which she was seated, instead of to the stage. It was the copper-colored visage of the sailor who had that morning brought her Paul's letter. She knew not why, but she felt a thrill of pleasurable emotion vibrating through her breast as she beheld the rough face of this man. He knew, and was known to Paul. He could not then be other than a friend to her. The watchful eye of Augustus Horton perceived her start of surprise as she beheld this man. "One would think," he said, with something of a sneer, "that the lovely Donna Camillia Moraquitos had recognized an acquaintance in the pit of the theatre."