"Well, Ruez, how is Captain Bezan, to-day? have you been to the
barracks to inquire?" She said this in an assumed tone of
indifference, but it was only assumed.

"How is he?" repeated Ruez, after turning a quick glance of his soft
blue eyes upon his sister's face, as though he would read her very
soul. Isabella felt his keen glance, and almost blushed.

"Yes, brother, pray, how is Captain Bezan, to-day? do you not know?"

"His life hangs by a mere thread," continued the boy, sadly,
resuming again his former position. "The surgeon told me that his
recovery was very doubtful."

"Did he tell you that, Ruez?"

"Not those words, sister, but that which was equivalent to it,
however."

"He is worse, then, much worse?" she continued, in a hasty tone of
voice.

"Not worse, sister," replied Ruez. "I did not say that he was worse,
but the fever rages still, and unless that abates within a few
hours, death must follow."

Isabella Gonzales sat herself down at an open balcony and looked off
on the distant country in silence, so long, that Ruez and the hound
both fell asleep, and knew not that she at last left her seat. The