that had long been oppressing him, both mentally and physically. He
soon opened his eyes, and looked languidly about him, as if striving
to recall his situation, and what had prostrated him thus.

The girl stepped immediately back from the bedside, as she observed
these tokens, and droping the rebosa that had been heretofore
confined, veil-like to the crown of her head, and partially screened
her features, but she showed most unmistakable signs of delight, as
she read in the soldier's eyes that reason had once more returned to
her throne, and that Lorenzo Bezan was once more rational.

"How beautiful!" uttered the surgeon, half aloud, as he stood gazing
at the girl. "If the mistress be as lovely as the maid, no wonder
Captain Bezan has talked of her in his delirium!"

"Step hither, step hither, he is awake!" whispered the girl to the
surgeon.

"And his reason too has returned," said the professional man, as
soon as his eyes rested on the wounded soldier's face. "There is
hope now!"

"Thank Heaven for its infinite mercy!" said the girl, with an
earnest though tremulous voice, as she gathered her rebosa about her
face and prepared to depart.

"He will recover now?" she asked, once more, as she turned towards
the surgeon.

"With care and good nursing we may hope so," was the reply of the