"The other," answered Marianita, "is a head taller than the first. He sits his horse like a centaur. Now I can see his face distinctly. He has a fine noble countenance, with black moustaches. There is a band of gold lace on his hat. The danger does not appear to alarm him. Ah! he is a noble, handsome fellow." "It is he!" cried Gertrudis, in a voice that could be heard high above the _melee_ of sounds. "Yes--it is Don Rafael!" she repeated, springing to her feet, as if with the intention of beholding him once more before he should be engulfed in the flood of waters. "Where, sister? where?" she continued, gliding towards the window; but before she had made three steps across the chamber, her strength failed her, and she sank half-fainting upon the floor. "Mercy!" exclaimed Marianita, half stupified with terror. "Oh! _Jesus Maria_! another bound of their horses, and they will be safe! _Valga me Dios_! too late--too late! there are the waters. Oh! their wild roar! hear how they beat against the walls. Mother of God! shield these brave men! They hold one another by the hand! They bury their spurs in their horses' flanks! They ride forward without fear! They advance upon the frothing flood, as if they were charging upon an enemy! Virgin of Paradise! one of them, the smaller, is actually chaunting a hymn!" In effect, at that moment the voice of a man was heard above the rush of the water, crying out in measured accents-- "_In manus tuas, Domine! commendo animam meam_!" "Merciful Father!" cried Marianita, "I see them no more, the waters are over them both!" For a moment a death-like silence reigned in the apartment, broken only by the groaning of the waters, and the shouts of those clustering upon the _azotea_ without. Gertrudis, prostrate amidst the tresses of her dishevelled hair, was no longer able to give utterance to a word even in prayer. The voice of Marianita once more aroused her. "Now I see them again," continued she, "but no, only one! There is only one of them in the saddle. It is the taller one--he with the moustache. The other is gone. No! I see him, but he is dismounted, and borne off upon the flood. There! the other has seized hold of him! he raises him up, and draws him across his horse. What a powerful arm the brave man must have--he lifts the other like a child! The horse too appears strong as his master. How gallantly he breasts the flood with both men upon his back! What a strange sound comes from his nostrils! Now they are heading for the walls. _Santissima Virgen_! will you allow this brave cavalier to perish? he who overcomes that which has rooted up the trees of the forest?" "Oh!" cried Gertrudis, recovering her strength, and speaking in a burst of passionate pride; "it is Don Rafael, I am sure! No other could perform such a deed!" Her heart suddenly sank again, as she observed that her sister once more spoke in a tone of anguish.