"Heavens, Senorita!" he cried, "have you not heard? Do you not
know what has happened?"
"I know nothing, love," answered Ramona. "I have heard nothing
since you went away. For ten days I have been sure you were dead;
but to-night something told me that you were near, and I came to
meet you."
At the first words of Ramona's sentence, Alessandro threw his
arms around her again. As she said "love," his whole frame shook
with emotion.
"My Senorita!" he whispered, "my Senorita! how shall I tell you!
How shall I tell you!"
"What is there to tell, Alessandro?" she said. "I am afraid of
nothing, now that you are here, and not dead, as I thought."
But Alessandro did not speak. It seemed impossible. At last,
straining her closer to his breast, he cried: "Dearest Senorita! I feel
as if I should die when I tell you,-- I have no home; my father is
dead; my people are driven out of their village. I am only a beggar
now, Senorita; like those you used to feed and pity in Los Angeles
convent!" As he spoke the last words, he reeled, and, supporting
himself against the tree, added: "I am not strong, Senorita; we have
been starving.
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