The Beautiful Eyes of Ysidria | Page 8

shadows of the oaks, with their twisted and mistletoe-covered branches, made grotesque forms. I was very fond of these solitary walks on moonlight nights, often going as far as the divide, from which Bolinas and the great ocean can be seen, and where Larsen's wayside inn now stands, but to-night there was a new sensation of loneliness which I had never felt before, and I longed for some one to be with me; then I began to wonder whom I would prefer for a companion, and thought of all my friends, even to old Madre Moreno, but none of them seemed to be the one to break the new and undefinable loneliness. Suddenly the form of the fair stranger, with her bright eyes and expressive face, came up before my fancy, and I exclaimed, "Yes, it is she; it is she alone!"
"Alone!" sounded back upon my ear like a human voice, which startled me from my reverie, and I saw that I was standing beside the old adobe, whither I had wandered without knowing. Close at my feet lay a bit of white cloth which attracted my attention, and I picked it up. It was a handkerchief of fine cambric, in one corner of which was embroidered a name, which I could easily read in the moonlight, "Ysidria."
I read the name aloud, and the great wall with its ivy glistening silver in the light echoed back the name. At the time I was not surprised to hear the the three syllables so fully pronounced by the echo. I enjoyed the sound of the name, and called it again and again. "Ysidria! Ysidria!" each time called back the ruined wall, and at last I had to laugh as I thought of the ludicrous appearance I presented, calling aloud a name and like a child being pleased with the voice of the unseen spirit, but as I laughed, that too, reverberated, but the sound seemed changed, and it made me involuntarily shudder as I remembered the scene of that very morning, when my laugh had produced the same strange feeling, half of awe and half of anger. I looked around as if I expected to find some one at my side. I started at every sound, and the long, creeping shadows made me tremble. I was certainly strong, and had often shown myself courageous in time of danger, but the mysterious awe which fell upon me here completely unnerved me, and a cold perspiration started, when from the wall I heard a whisper, distinctly audible, which pronounced the words, "Ysidria hath beautiful eyes!"
I could not move, it seemed to me as if my heart ceased beating; I listened and strained my ears in agonizing suspense, but the voice did not come again, and the moon dropping suddenly behind the fig trees, cast the whole place into profound darkness.
I felt free again, and pressing the handkerchief to my lips, imprinted a kiss upon it and then at the same moment called myself a fool for so suddenly becoming infatuated with the stranger in whom I had not the slightest reason for taking more than a passing interest at most, no more than common politeness required.
Again I laughed aloud and again the same fearful, hollow echo came back to me from the ruined wall. I could stand it no longer, and turning, ran from the grove, over the brow of the hill to the road, fearing every moment lest the strange spell, from which I had just recovered, should seize me again.
As I ascended the second hill, I saw, as I looked behind me, a female figure slowly walking down to the road from the grove of figs. I knew at once who it was from the odd manner of wearing her reboso, and by the lameness of her gait; it was Madre Moreno, the witch.
The thought suddenly came to me that she must have been hidden in the ruin, and have heard me when I called the name of Ysidria, and I mentally cursed the old hag. Then I thought of the whispered sentence, and of the three syllabled echo; and knew they must have come from her.
"What can the awful woman have in hand?" I asked myself, "What, but some wickedness. I wish she did not follow me so closely. Worse than all, she may tell the fair Ysidria what a fool I made of myself over her handkerchief; I almost wish with Catalina that the good old days were here again." I walked home more slowly, and entering the house quietly, reached my room just as the clock struck two.

V.
The winter went, and the hot summer passed pleasantly.
It was about the beginning of October, when one morning, I walked down to Madre Moreno's house. I had become a constant visitor at