The Heart's Secret; Or, the Fortunes of a Soldier Part 26

"None!"

Throwing himself into a chair, Lorenzo Bezan seemed perfectly overcome with grief. He did not weep, no tears came to his relief; but it was the fearful struggle of the soul, that sometimes racks the stout frame and manly heart. The soldier who had pa.s.sed so many hours on the battle-field-who had breathed the breath of scores of dying men, of wounded comrades, and bleeding foes, was a child now.

He clasped his hands and remained in silence, like one wrapped in prayer.

He had not remained thus but a short time, when a slave summoned him to the bedside of the dying countess. He found her once more alone.

Isabella had retired to her own apartment.

"General," said the sufferer, holding out her hand, which he pressed tenderly to his lips!

"Forgive me, Countess Moranza, pray forgive me?"

"I have nothing to forgive, and for my sake charge yourself with no blame for me. It is my dying request, for I can stay but a little longer. I have one other to make. You will grant it?"

"Anything that mortal can do I will do for thee."

"Take, then, this package. It contains papers and letters relative to myself, my estates, and to you. Strictly obey the injunctions therein contained."

"I will," said the soldier, kneeling.

"This promise is sacred, and will make me die the happier," she said, drawing a long sigh. "I have explained to her you love the cause of my singular appearance here, and have exculpated you from all blame on my account."

"Ah! but countess, it is terrible that you should have sacrificed your life to save mine."

"Say not so; it is the only joy of this moment, for it has saved me from the curse of the suicide!" she almost whispered, drawing him closer to her side as she spoke. "I could not live, save in the light of your eyes. I knew you were poor, comparatively so-that fortune would place your alliance with her you have loved beyond question as to policy. I resolved to follow you-do all in my power to make you happy--ask of you sometimes to remember me--and then--"

"O, what then?" said Lorenzo Bezan, almost trembling.

"Die by my own hands, in a way that none should know! But how much happier has Heaven ordered it. I could have wished, have prayed for such a result; but not for one moment could I have hoped for it. As it is I am happy."

"And I am wretched," said the soldier; "had the choice been offered me of thy death or mine, how quickly would I have fallen for thee, who hast been more than a sister, a dear, kind sister to me."

The sufferer covered her face with her hands; his tender words, and his gentle accents of voice, and the truthful expression of his face, for one moment reached her hear; through its most sensitive channel! But the struggle was only for a moment; the cold hand of death was upon her; she felt even the chill upon her system. A slight shudder ran through her frame. She crossed her hands upon her bosom, and closing her eyes, breathed a silent prayer, and pressed the glittering cross that hung about her neck fervently to her lips.

Then turning to the soldier she said:

"You may well love her, general, for she is very beautiful, and worthy of you," referring to Isabella Gonzales, who had just returned to her apartment.

"She is as lovely in person as in mind. But, alas! must I stand here powerless, and see you, but an hour ago so perfectly well, so full of life and beauty, die without one effort to save you?"

"It is useless," said the sufferer. "I feel that the surgeon is correct, and I must die very shortly."

"O, that I might save you, countess, even by mine own life!"

"You would do so, I know you would; it is so like your nature," she said, turning her still beautiful eyes upon him.

"I would, indeed I would," answered General Bezan.

A sweet smile of satisfaction stole over her pale features as she once more languidly closed her eyes, and once more that ominous shudder stole through her frame.

"It is very cold, is it not?" she asked, realizing the chill that her paralyzed circulation caused.

"Alas, countess, I fear it is the chill of death you feel!"

"So soon? well, I am prepared," she said, once more kissing the cross.

"Heaven bless and receive your pure and lovely spirit," he said, devoutly, as she once more replaced her hand within his own.

"Farewell, Lorenzo Bezan. Sometimes think kindly of the Countess M-o-r-a-n-z-a!"

She breathed no more. That faithful and beautiful spirit had fled to heaven!

CHAPTER XIX.

THE AVOWAL.

THERE had seemed to be a constantly recurring thread of circ.u.mstances, which operated to separate Lorenzo Bezan and Isabella Gonzales. Isabella had received a fearful shock in the remarkable occurrences of the last few days. The devoted love of the countess, her self-sacrificing spirit, her risk and loss of her life to save him she loved, all had made a most indelible impression upon her.

There was a moment, as the reader has seen, when she doubted the truth and honor of Lorenzo Bezan; but it was but for a moment, for had not his own truthfulness vindicated itself to her mind and heart, the words of the Countess Moranza had done so. That faithful and lovely woman told her also of the n.o.ble spirit of devoted love that the soldier bore her, and how honestly he had cherished that love he bore for her when surrounded by the dazzling beauty and flattery of the whole court, and bearing the name of the queen's favorite.

All this led her of course to regard him with redoubled affection, and to increase the weight of indebtedness of her heart towards one whom she had treated so coldly, and who for her sake had borne so much of misery. "But ah!" she said to herself, "if he could but read this heart, and knew how much it has suffered in its self-imposed misery, he would indeed pity and not blame me. I see it all now; from the very first I have loved him-from the hour of our second meeting in the Paseo-poor, humble and unknown, I loved him then; but my spirit was too proud to own it; and I have loved him ever since, though the cold words of repulse have been upon my tongue, and I have tried to impress both him and myself to the contrary. How bitter are the penalties of pride-how heavy the tax that it demands from frail humanity! No more shall it have sway over this bosom!" As she spoke, the beautiful girl threw back the dark cl.u.s.tering hair from her temples, and raised her eyes to heaven, as if to call for witness upon her declaration.

The proper steps were taken for sending the body of the countess home to Madrid, where it would receive the highest honors, and those marks of distinction which its connection with the royal blood of Spain demanded. Lorenzo Bezan mourned sincerely the loss of one who had been so dear and kind a friend to him. An instinctive feeling seemed to separate Isabella and the lieutenant-governor for a brief period. It was not a period of anxiety, nor of doubt, concerning each other. Strange to say, not one word had yet been exchanged between them since that bitter farewell was uttered in the prison walls of the military keep. No words could have made them understand each other better than they now did; each respected the peculiar feelings of the other. But weeks soon pa.s.s, and the time was very brief that transpired before they met in the drawing-room of Don Gonzales's house. Ruez welcomed Lorenzo Bezan as he entered, led him to the apartment, and calling his sister, declared that they must excuse him, for he was going with his father for a drive in the Paseo.

Lorenzo Bezan sat for some moments alone, when he heard a light footstep upon the marble floor of the main hall, and his heart throbbed with redoubled quickness. In a moment more Isabella Gonzales stood before him; her eyes bent upon the floor, seemed immovably there; she could not raise them; but she held forth her hand towards him! He seized it, pressed it to his lips again and again, then drawing her closely to his bosom, pressed his lips to her forehead, and asked:

"Isabella, Isabella, do you, can you really love me?"

"Love you, Lorenzo Bezan?"

"Yes, dear one, love me as I have for years loved you."

She raised her eyes now; they were streaming with tears; but through them all she said:

"I have looked into my heart, and I find that I have ever loved you!"

"Sweet words! O, happy a.s.surance," said the soldier, rapturously.

"One word will explain all to thee. I was spoiled when in childhood.

I was told that I was beautiful, and as I grew older a spirit of haughtiness and pride was implanted in my bosom by the universal homage that was offered to me on all hands. I had no wish ungratified, was unchecked, humored, in short spoiled thy affectionate indulgence, and but for one good influence-that exercised by the lovely character of my dear brother, Ruez-I fear me, I should have been undeniably lost to the world and myself in some strange denouement of my life. A startling and fearful event introduced you to me under circ.u.mstances calculated to fix your form and features forever in my memory. It did so. I could not but be sensible of your n.o.ble and manly qualities, though seen through what was to my mind a dark haze of humble a.s.sociations.

"This was my first impression of you. You boldly wooed me, told me you loved me above all else. Your very audacity attracted me; it was so novel, so strange to be thus approached. I, who was the acknowledged belle of Havana, before whom the best blood and highest t.i.tles of the island knelt, and who was accustomed to be approached with such deference and respect, was half won before I knew it, by the Lieutenant Lorenzo Bezan, on the Plato. Singular circ.u.mstances again threw us together, where again your personal bravery and firmness served us so signally. I knew not my own heart even then, though some secret whisperings partly aroused me, and when you were sent to prison, I found my pride rising above all else. And yet by some uncontrollable impulse I visited you, disguised, in prison; and there again I can see how nearly I had acknowledged my true feelings; but once more the secret whisper sounded in my ear, and I left you coldly, nay, almost insultingly. But bitterly have I wept for that hour.