Alessandro caught the words. Spite of all the confusion and terror of the scene, his heart heard the word, “Señorita.” Ramona was not the wife of Felipe, or of any man. Yet Alessandro recollected that he had addressed her as Señora, and she did not seem surprised. Coming to the front of the group he said, bending forward, “Señorita!” There must have been something in the tone which made Ramona start. The simple word could not have done it. “Señorita,” said Alessandro, “it will be nothing to bring Señor Felipe down the ladder. He is, in my arms, no more than one of the lambs yonder. I will bring him down as soon as he is recovered. He is better here till then. He will very soon be himself again. It was only the heat.” Seeing that the expression of anxious distress did not grow less on Ramona's face, he continued, in a tone still more earnest, “Will not the Señorita trust me to bring him safe down?”
Ramona smiled faintly through her tears. “Yes,” she said, “I will trust you. You are Alessandro, are you not?”
“Yes, Señorita,” he answered, greatly surprised, “I am Alessandro.”
