"It is true, then," she said in a harmonious voice, "you love me then, Don Martial?"
"Oh!" the young man murmured, almost mad with love at this delicious contact.
The Mexican girl bent over him still more, and grazing with her rosy lips the Tigrero's moist brow,--
"Now," she said to him, starting back with the ravishing movement of a startled fawn, while her brow turned purple with the effort she had made to overcome her modesty, "now defend me, Don Martial; for in the presence of God, who sees us and judges us, I am your wife!"
The Tigrero leaped on his feet beneath the corrosive sting of this kiss. With a radiant brow and sparkling eyes, he seized the girl's arm and drawing her to the corner of the room, where was a statue of the Virgin, before which perfumed oil was burning,--
"On your knees, señorita," he said in an inspired voice, and himself bowed the knee.
"Holy Mother of Sorrow!" Don Martial went on, "_Nuestra Señora de la Soledad_! Divine succour of the afflicted, who soundest all hearts! Thou seest the purity of our souls, the holiness of our love. Before thee I take for my wife Doña Anita de Torrés. I swear to defend and protect her, before and against everybody, even if I lose my life in the contest I commence this day for the happiness of her I love, and who from this day forth is really my betrothed."
After pronouncing this oath in a firm voice the Tigrero turned to the maiden.
"It is your turn now, señorita," he said to her.
The girl fervently clasped her hands, and raising her tear-laden eyes to the holy image,--
"Nuestra Señora de la Soledad," she said in a voice broken with emotion, "thou, my only protector since the day of my birth, knowest how truly I am devoted to thee! I swear that all this man has said is the truth. I take him for my husband in thy sight, and will never have another."
They rose, and Doña Anita led the Tigrero to the balcony.
"Go!" she said to him. "Don Martial's wife must not be suspected. Go, my husband, my brother! The man to whom they want to deliver me is called the Count de Lhorailles. Tomorrow at daybreak we leave this place, probably to join him."
"Farewell, Doña Anita! Take courage: I am watching over you."
And after imprinting a last and chaste kiss on the young girl's pure brow, he clambered over the balcony, and hanging by the reata, glided down into the street. The hacendero's daughter unfastened the running knot, leant out and gazed on the Tigrero as long as she could see him; then she closed the window.