And bowing his head on his chest, the old man sank into a deep and gloomy meditation.
"Watch over him," Cuéllar said to the count, "I know don Melchior, he is a thorough Indian."
In the meanwhile, doña Dolores, who up to this moment had remained, timidly concealed among her women behind the barricade, rose, removed some articles of furniture, glided softly through the opening she had effected, and sat down by the side of don Andrés. The latter did not stir; he had neither seen her come nor heard her place herself by his side. She bent down to him, seized his hand, which she pressed in her own; kissed him softly on the forehead, and said to him in her melodious voice, with an accent of tenderness, impossible to describe--
"My father, dear father, have you not a child left who loves and respects you? Do not let yourself be thus prostrated by grief; look at me, papa, in Heaven's name! I am your daughter, do you not love me, who feel so great a love for you?"
Don Andrés raised his face, which was bathed in tears, and opened his arms to the girl, who rushed into them with a cry of joy. "Oh! I was ungrateful," he exclaimed, with ineffable tenderness; "I doubted the infinite goodness of God; my daughter is left to me! I am no longer alone in the world, I can be happy still!"
"Yes, papa, God has wished to try us, but He will not abandon us in our misfortune; be brave, forget your ungrateful son; when he repents, remove the terrible malediction you uttered against him; let him return penitent to your knees; he has only been led astray, I feel sure; how could he help loving you, my noble father, you are ever so great and good?"
"Never speak to me about your brother, child," the old man replied with savage energy, "that man no longer exists for me; you have no brother, you never had one! Pardon me for deceiving you, by letting you believe that this villain formed part of our family; no, this monster is not my son, I was abused myself in supposing that the same blood flowed in his veins and mine."
"Calm yourself, in Heaven's name, papa, I implore you."
"Come, my poor child," he continued as he pressed her in his arms, "do not leave me, I want to feel you are here near me, that I may not believe myself alone in the world, and that I may have the strength to overcome my despair. Oh, say to me once more, that you love me, you cannot understand what balm the words are to my heart, and what relief they offer to my sorrow!"