Tell the damsel, should ye meet her, That, alas! no heart have I, For her love I would entreat her; Fickle maid, why didst thou fly? Ah, well-a-day! True love is a jewel! Why hence away? Oh, my Chloe cruel. Prythee shepherds, her discover, I her face again would see; Still am I her longing lover; Sweet coquette, return to me! Ah, well-a-day! True love is a jewel! Why hence away? Oh, my Chloe cruel. Dolores lost! Jack's thoughts immediately became busy with Don Hypolito, and the Forest Indians. Could it be that she had been carried off by one of these, and if so, by which of the two? It was now nine o'clock, and Jack had left her on the roof of the azotea at four. It seemed impossible that in so short a period the girl could have utterly disappeared. At the same time, by the strict social observances of Tlatonac, Dolores should have returned from her visit to the cathedral before dark, and as she had not done so, there seemed to be reasonable ground for apprehension. Such excitement reigned in the house that it was some time before either Jack or Philip could extract the reasons for such belief from the alarmed inmates. As poor Duval was terribly upset at the thought that Dolores was lost, Philip took affairs into his own hands with great promptitude, and proceeded to cross-examine the maid who had last seen her. This damsel, by name Marina, was of pure Indian extraction, and cunning past all knowing. At the present time, however, owing to the reproaches of Doña Serafina, and the scoldings of Don Miguel, she was reduced to a kind of moral pulp, not having even sufficient energy to lie according to custom. Philip spoke to Don Miguel as to the advisability of extracting information from this girl; and at once Marina was brought before him. She was terribly afraid of the Señor Americano, who looked so stern and evidently thought Philip was about to order her immediate execution. "Marina!" asked Philip, slowly, in Spanish, "where did you last see the Señorita?" "Santissima! Señor Americano!" replied the frightened poblana, clasping her hands, "it was in the great church. The Señorita was kneeling at the shrine of Our Lady, and--and----" "Go on," said Philip, seeing she hesitated. "Por Dios, Señor, I thought no harm; but I saw Pepe at the door of the church, and he beckoned to me." "Who is Pepe?" "Hechicera!" broke in Doña Serafina, wildly, "that good-for-nothing Pepe is your lover. And you went to him, ladroncilla? Eh, yes! You left the Señorita. Oh, wicked one! Oh, child of Satan!"