rich and proud. It is perhaps strange, but nevertheless true, that
with all these discouraging and disheartening circumstances,
Lieutenant Bezan did not lose all hope. He loved her, lowly and
obscure though he was, with all his heart, and used to whisper to
himself that love like his need not despair, for he felt how truly
and honestly his heart warmed and his pulses beat for her.

Nearly two entire years had his devoted heart lived on thus, if not
once gratified by a glance from her eye, still hoping that devotion
like his would one day be rewarded. What prophets of the future are
youth and love! Distant as the star of his destiny appeared from
him, he yet still toiled on, hoped on, in his often weary round of
duty, sustained by the one sentiment of tender love and devotedness
to one who knew him not.

At the time of the fearful accident when Ruez Gonzales came so near
losing his life from the fall he suffered off the parapet of the
Plato, Lieutenant Bezan was officer of the night, his rounds having
fortunately brought him to the quay at the most opportune moment. He
knew not who it was that had fallen into the water, but guided by a
native spirit of daring and humanity, he had thrown off his coat and
cap and leaped in after him.

The feelings of pleasure and secret joy experienced by the young
officer, when after landing from the boat he learned by a single
glance who it was he had so fortunately saved, may be better
imagined than described, when his love for the boy's sister is
remembered. And when, as we have related, the proud Senorita
Isabella publicly saluted him before a hundred eyes in the Paseo, he
felt a joy of mind, a brightness of heart, that words could not