into my arms, and imprinted a kiss on her lips, on which she disentangled herself from my rash hands, and rose with an air of dignity.
—"Yes," cried she, "I will be proud of this passion, Carlos; yes, thou art the only being I love in the creation!"
—"And wilt thou after such a confession, leave me to myself?"
—"Must I not, Carlos?"
"No, Francisca. Will you trust your fate to me? Will you elope with me?
—"I am ready, Carlos, but in Spain we must not remain; we should be discovered every where, and they would wrest me from your arms. Take me with you to some lonely retreat beyond the sea, that I may not be forced to act against you!"
—"Against me? On what should my apprehensions be grounded?"
"The human heart often harbours horrid plans. Trust not, Carlos, even to the best of friends. But I have sworn—" Here she looked timidly all around the garden.
