"I do not know," replied the servant. "Summon old Ammon." The major-domo withdrew. "These Indians," said the old man, "have secret understandings among themselves; I must know whether the pursuit of this man dates from a distant period." The duenna entered, and remained standing before her master. "Does my daughter," asked Samuel, "know any thing of what has taken place this morning?" "When the cries of your servants awoke me, I ran to the chamber of the senora, and found her almost motionless and of a mortal paleness." "Fatality!" said Samuel; "continue," added he, seeing that the mestizo was apparently asleep. "To my urgent inquiries as to the cause of her agitation, the senora would not reply; she retired without accepting my services, and I withdrew." "Has this Indian often thrown himself in her way?" "I do not know, master; nevertheless I have often met him in the streets of San Lazaro." "And you have told me nothing of this?" "He came to her assistance this evening on the Plaza-Mayor," added the old duenna. "Her assistance! how?" The old woman related the scene with downcast head. "Ah! my daughter wish to kneel among these Christians!" exclaimed the Jew, angrily; "and I knew nothing of all this! You deserve that I should dismiss you." The duenna went out of the room in confusion. "Do you not see that the marriage should take place soon?" said Andre Certa. "I am not asleep, Master Samuel! But I need rest, now, and I will dream of our espousals." At these words, the old man slowly retired. Before regaining his room, he wished to assure himself of the condition of his daughter, and softly entered the chamber of Sarah. The young girl was in an agitated slumber, in the midst of the rich silk drapery around her; a watch-lamp of alabaster, suspended from the arabesques of the ceiling, shed its soft light upon her beautiful countenance; the half-open window admitted, through lowered blinds, the quiet coolness of the air, impregnated with the penetrating perfumes of the aloes and magnolia; creole luxury was displayed in the thousand objects of art which good taste and grace had dispersed on richly carved _etageres_; and, beneath the vague and placid rays of night, it seemed as if the soul of the child was sporting amid these wonders. The old man approached the bed of Sarah: he bent over her to listen. The beautiful Jewess seemed disturbed by sorrowful thoughts, and more than once the name of Martin Paz escaped her lips. Samuel regained his chamber, uttering maledictions. At the first rays of morning, Sarah hastily arose. Liberta, a full-blooded Indian attached to her service, hastened to her; and, in pursuance of her orders, saddled a mule for his mistress and a horse for himself. Sarah was accustomed to take morning-rides, accompanied by this Indian, who was entirely devoted to her.