him. I will not, cannot leave him!"

She paused, hiding her face in her hands, but Ulrich paced to and fro,
violently agitated. At last he said firmly: "Yet you must part from him.
He or I! I will have nothing to do with the lover of my father's wife.
I am Adam's son, and will be constant to him. Ah, mother, I have been
deprived of you so long. You can tend strangers' orphaned children, yet
you make your own son an orphan. Will you do this? No, a thousand
times, no, you cannot! Do not weep so, you must not weep! Hear me, hear
me! For my sake, leave this Spaniard! You will not repent it. I have
just been dreaming of the nest I will build for you. There I will
cherish and care for you, and you shall keep as many orphan children as
you choose. Leave him, mother, you must leave him for the sake of your
child, your Ulrich!"

"Oh, God! oh, God!" she sobbed. "I will try, yes, I will try....
My child, my dear child!"

Ulrich clasped her closely in his arms, kissed her hair, and said,
softly: "I know, I know, you need love, and you shall find it with me."

"With you!" she repeated, sobbing. Then releasing herself from his
embrace she hurried to the feverish woman, at whose summons she had left
her tent.

As morning dawned, she returned home and found Zorrillo still awake. He
enquired about her patient, and told her he had given the child something
to drink while she was away.

Flora could not help weeping bitterly again, and Zorrillo, noticing it,