The Marquise de Leganes made one convulsive movement as she heard that
sound; it was the only sign she gave of sorrow.

"Am I placed right this way, my good Juanito?" asked the little
Manuelo of his brother.

"Ah! you are weeping, Mariquita!" said Juanito to his sister.

"Yes," she said, "I think of you, my poor Juanito; how lonely you will
be without us."

Soon the grand figure of the marquis came forward. He looked at the
blood of his children; he turned to the mute and motionless
spectators, and said in a strong voice, stretching his hands toward
Juanito,--

"Spaniards! I give my son my fatherly blessing! Now, _Marquis_,
strike, without fear--you are without reproach."

But when Juanito saw his mother approach him, supported by the priest,
he cried out: "She bore me!"

A cry of horror broke from all present. The noise of the feast and the
jovial laughter of the officers ceased at that terrible clamor. The
marquise comprehended that Juanito's courage was exhausted, and
springing with one bound over the parapet, she was dashed to pieces on
the rocks below. A sound of admiration rose. Juanito had fallen
senseless.