"Nothing that can interest you at present, my child. You had better, therefore, be ignorant of it, and that I should suffer alone. I am old. I am accustomed to sorrow," he said, with a melancholy smile. "My poor uncle!" "Thank you for the kindness you evince, my child; but let us quit this subject that saddens you; let us speak a little, if you please, of the worthy people to whom we owe so many obligations." "Of Loyal Heart?" Doña Luz murmured, with a blush. "Yes," the general replied. "Loyal Heart and his mother; the excellent woman whom I have not yet been able to thank, on account of the wound of poor Belhumeur, and to whom it is due, you say, that you have not suffered any privations." "She has had all the cares of a tender mother for me!" "How can I ever acquit myself towards her and her noble son? She is blessed in having such a child! Alas! that comfort is not given to me--I am alone!" the general said, letting his head sink into his hands. "And I?" said the maiden, in a faint voice. "Oh! you?" he replied, embracing her tenderly; "you are my beloved daughter, but I have no son!" "That is true!" she murmured, thoughtfully. "Loyal Heart," the general continued, "is of too proud a nature to accept anything of me. What am I to do? how acquit myself towards him? how acknowledge, as I ought, the immense services he has rendered me?" There was a moment of silence. Doña Luz inclined towards the general, and kissing his brow, she said to him in a low tremulous voice, concealing her face upon his shoulder: "Uncle, I have an idea." "Speak, my darling," he replied, "speak without fear; it is, perhaps, God who inspires you." "You have no son to whom you can bequeath your name and your immense fortune, have you, uncle?" "Alas! I thought for a time, I might recover one, but that hope has vanished for ever; you know, child, I am alone." "Neither Loyal Heart nor his mother would accept anything from you." "That I believe." "And yet, I think there is a way of obliging them, of forcing them even." "What is it?" he said, eagerly. "Dear uncle, since you regret so much not having a son to whom you could, after you, leave your name, why not adopt Loyal Heart?" The general looked at her, she was covered with blushes, and trembling like a leaf. "Oh! darling!" he said, embracing her, "your idea is a charming one, but it is impracticable. I should be happy and proud to have a son like Loyal Heart. You yourself have told me how his mother adores him; she must be jealous of his love, she will never consent to share it with a stranger." "Perhaps she might!" the young girl murmured.