Could it have been the wind, moaning as it swept through the sharp points
of the broken walls?

Berta rose to her feet, and cried twice in a loud voice:

"Adrian! Adrian!"

Her voice was borne away on the breeze, losing itself in the distance. But
before the last notes died away, another voice resounded among the ruins,
saying:

"Berta! Berta!"

The sun had just set, and the twilight shadows gathered swiftly, as if
they had sprung up from among the ruins, hiding the broken pillars and the
crumbling walls.

In one of the angles of the cloister appeared a moving shadow. This shadow
advanced slowly until it reached the middle of the court where the remains
of the disused cistern were seen. There it stopped, and in a soft clear
voice uttered the words:

"It is I, Berta; it is I."

"He!" she cried, extending her arms in the air.

Juana uttered a cry of terror and caught hold of Berta with all the
strength left her; the father tried to rise, but, unable to sustain
himself, fell on his knees beside his daughter.