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  "I will return soon, dearest," he said lovingly, holding the trembling girl in his strong arms, "and then your father has promised our marriage shall take place."

  "And you will not run into danger, for my sake?" Lianor pleaded, winding her white arms round his neck. "Think how desolate I should be without you!"

  Don Garcia, having a great liking for the young man, saw him go with some regret.

  "Don't stay away longer than you can help," he said kindly. "God keep you, my boy."

  So Luiz parted from his love, and returned to Diu, carrying in his heart a cherished memory of Lianor, and a tiny miniature of her in his breast-pocket.

  When he arrived at the governor's palace, he went directly to Manuel Tonza, to inform him of his departure.

  The governor, a tall, dark-looking man of more than thirty, bore on his fine features a look of haughty sternness, mingled with some cruelty.

  He glanced coldly at the young captain, and listened in silence to his explanations; but, as Luiz drew from his breast a sealed packet, given him by Don Garcia, Lianor's miniature fell with a crash to the ground, the jeweled case flying open.

  Manuel picked it up from the floor with sudden swiftness, and gazed admiringly at the pictured face.

  "Who is this?" he asked abruptly.

  "Lianor de Sa, Don Garcia's daughter.

  "Lianor de Sa, and so beautiful as this!" the governor muttered inaudibly. "I forgot she had grown from a child to a woman; I must see her. How comes'it, though, her miniature is in his hands? Surely they could not have betrothed her to a captain!"

  With a gesture of disdain he flung the miniature on the table, and told Luiz his presence was no longer needed.

  Once alone, and a singular smile crossed the governor's face.

  "I must pay Don Garcia a visit. It is long since I saw him. I never dreamt his little daughter had grown up so lovely. Thank Heaven, I am rich! My jewels and wealth might tempt a queen! I need not fear refusal from a viceroy's daughter."

  Full of complacent contentment, Tonza made hasty preparations for leaving Diu, and that same evening saw him a welcome guest of Don Garcia.

  He was charmed with Lianor.

  In spite of himself, a deep passionate love wakened in his heart for her, and he determined to win her for his wife.

  First he wished to gain Don Garcia over to his side, so took an early opportunity of speaking to him on the subject.

  The viceroy listened in grave silence, and a look of regret stole into his eyes.

  "I am sorry," he said gently. "Why have you come too late? My child is already betrothed."

  "To whom?" hoarsely.

  "Luiz Falcam."

  "But he is only a captain, and poor! Surely you would not sacrifice your child to him? Think what riches I could lay at her feet! As my wife, Lianor would be one of the most envied of women."

  "I know, and I wish now I had not been so hasty; but Luiz saved her life, won my gratitude; then, as the price of his act, asked Lianor's hand. I was forced to consent, as I had said I would give him whatever he asked," with a sigh.

  "A promise gained like that is not binding. It was taking an unfair advantage of your gratitude."

  "I do not like to break my promise, but I will do what I can for you; I will ask Lianor, and if she cares for you more than for Luiz, she shall wed you."

  "Thank you; and I will try hard to gain her love," Manuel answered hopefully.

  When Lianor heard the subject of the conference between her father and Tonza, her indignation was unbounded.

  "How can you act so dishonorably, papa?" she cried angrily, "after betrothing me to Luiz; now, because Tonza is rich and wishes to marry me, you would break your word."

  "But, my dear, think how different Manuel is to Falcam! He can give you a beautiful home, and jewels such as a queen might envy, while the captain can give you nothing."

  "He can give me a brave, loving heart, which is worth all the world to me! No; while Luiz lives I will be true to him. No other shall steal my love from him," firmly.

  "Is that the answer I am to give Tonza?"

  "Yes. Thank him for the great honor he has done me; but, as I cannot marry two men, I choose the one I love—who first won my hand and saved my life."

  When Manuel heard her answer he was filled with rage and hate.

  "So—so," he muttered, a sinister look creeping over his face, "she will not wed me while Falcam lives. But should he die—what then?"

  To Lianor he was always gentle, trying by soft words and many little attentions to win her regard; a very difficult task. Since her father's conversation, she shrank as much as possible from him, hoping he would understand her studied coldness.

  "Savitre," she said one evening, as they were dressing for a ball, given in her honor, "that horrid man's attentions are becoming intolerable! He will not see how I detest him, and am bound by love and promise to another. I wish Luiz was here; he has been away so long. I am tired of Tonza's persistence and papa's reproaches."

  "Never mind, dearest; all will be well when your brave lover returns. Perhaps he may be even now on the way. I am sure if he knew how terribly you were persecuted he would fly to you at once," Savitre whispered softly.

  "I feel miserable—unhappy. Lalli, put away those robes and give me a plain black dress. During Luiz's absence I will put on mourning, so Tonza can read the sorrow I feel in my heart."

  "But, dear, what will your father say?" Savitre asked anxiously.

  "He will be angry, I know. But it is partly his fault I am obliged to act thus."

  In a few minutes Lalli and Tolla had silently arrayed their young mistress in trailing black robes, which clung softly to her beautiful form.

  No jewelry relieved the somberness of her dress; her dark hair, thick and long, fell like a veil over her shoulders, adding to the mournfulness of her garb by its dusky waves.

  Below, in the handsome marble hall, stood Don Garcia and Tonza, both watching with suppressed impatience the richly-hung staircase leading to Lianor's apartments.

  "It is late. I hope nothing has occurred," Manuel said anxiously, drawing the velvet curtain aside to gaze across the hall.

  Even as he did so, Lianor, leaning lightly on Satzavan's shoulder, appeared, her graceful head held proudly erect, an expression of supreme indifference on her face.

  Both men started with an exclamation of alarm—rage on Manuel's part.

  "What! In mourning, and for a ball?" Manuel gasped with rising passion.

  "Lianor, what does this farce mean? Why have you disguised yourself? How dare you disobey me when I said so particularly I wished you to appear at your best? I have been too weakly indulgent with you, and now you take advantage of my tenderness to disgrace me by showing my guests your foolish infatuation for a man to whom I now wish I had never promised your hand."

  Lianor lifted her reproachful eyes to his, her pale face, even whiter in contrast with her somber dress, full of resolute rebellion.

  "I am not ungrateful, papa, for your kindness, but I will never forget the promise I gave Luiz. My love is not to be bought for gold; I gave it willingly to the man to whom you betrothed me, and, father, none of our family have ever acted dishonorably; so I am sure you will not be the first to break your word."

  "Do not be too sure of that, Lianor. I am more than half inclined to make you accept Tonza, and forget your vows were ever plighted to that pauper captain."

  "You could not be so hard, knowing how my happiness is bound up in him. I will never, while Luiz lives, give my hand to another."

  "Thank you, Lianor; nor will Falcam let you," a deep voice broke in suddenly, and Luiz, his face flushed with mingled pleasure and disgust, came toward her, followed by his bosom friend, Diniz Sampayo, a young and rich noble.

  Lianor threw herself into his arms with a glad cry, while Don Garcia and Manuel, full of rage, stole away, leaving the lovers alone.

  "My darling, then I heard truly when they said my own dear love was being forced to we
d another. Thank Heaven, I left Diu at once, and came to you, as your father seems inclined to listen to Manuel's suit," Luiz said tenderly, bending to kiss the pale face.

  "I am so glad you have come, Luiz! I felt so lonely without you near me, to give me hope and courage."

  "My poor little love! But why these robes, Lianor? I thought it was a day of festival at the palace?"

  "I know; but I was determined, during your absence, to keep Tonza from paying me his odious attentions by putting on mourning. He could not fail to see where my thoughts were. Now you have returned, I will throw them aside, and show them it is a time of rejoicing with me. Wait, Luiz."

  With a tender smile the young lover unclasped her slender form and let her glide swiftly away.

  But not long did he wait; soon the curtains were again lifted, and Lianor, radiant as a bright star, in trailing robes of white and gold, diamonds flashing on her bare arms and round her delicate throat, came towards him.

  "My queen, my own dear love! what should I do if they took you from me?" passionately pressing her hands to his lips.

  "They will never do that, Luiz. I am determined not to allow Tonza to win my father over to his way of thinking."

  Manuel Tonza watched the happy lovers with bitterest hate gnawing at his heart, deadly schemes against his fortunate rival flitting through his subtle brain.

  Late that night, when the weary guests were parting, Tonza stole noiselessly from the palace; and when he returned, in less than half an hour, his face wore an expression of fiendish triumph and delight.

  He was even polite to Luiz, much to that young man's surprise, though he doubted the sincerity of Manuel's words.

  Happy and content, after a tender adieu to Lianor, the captain left the viceroy's palace, to seek his own apartments.

  Not far had he gone, however, when a shadow stole silently behind him, and the next moment he felt himself suddenly grasped by powerful hands and flung to the ground.

  Almost stunned by the fall, he was yet able to see the dark face bending over him.

  From the shadows came another form, one he recognized. A gleaming poignard was placed in the assassin's hand, which descended ere he could break from that strong hold, and was buried deep in his heart.

  Guiltily two forms glided away in opposite directions, leaving Luiz, pale and cold, lying in a stream of blood—dead!

  It was still early when Lianor awoke; but in spite of the drowsiness overpowering her, she hastily rose, and calling her maids, bade them quickly arrange her toilet.

  "I am restless, and cannot stay longer indoors; I wish to be out in the fresh air," she explained to Savitre, who entered soon after.

  Scarcely, however, had they arrived without the palace gates, than Diniz Sampayo, his face pale and haggard, eyes full of fear and anguish, came hastily to her side.

  "Donna Lianor, return to your father's house; I have something to tell you which I dare not breathe here—it is too horrible! Prepare yourself for a great shock, my poor child! I wish some one else had brought the awful tidings," he cried hoarsely.

  Lianor stood perfectly still, and her eyes grew wide and her face blanched with awakened fear. Clasping her hands piteously together, she said:

  "Tell me now. I am brave—can bear anything! Is it Luiz? Is he ill—in danger? Oh, Diniz, for pity's sake tell me!"

  Diniz took the trembling hands in his, and quietly bidding the others follow, led her silently through the town, until they arrived at the house where Luiz had taken rooms with his friend.

  "Perhaps it is best you should see him. Poor Luiz! How can I break the awful truth to you? Your betrothed—the man you loved—is dead— murdered by a cowardly hand on his way home from your father's palace!"

  Lianor grew deathly pale.

  "Dead!" she repeated, clasping her hands despairingly to her throbbing brow. "It cannot be true! My darling dead—murdered!"

  "My poor child, it is only too true! This morning he was found, and brought home, stabbed through the heart!"

  "But who could have done it?" Savitre asked in a low, hushed whisper.

  "I wish I knew. But, alas! that is a mystery!"

  Lianor gazed helplessly from one to the other, then, breaking from her friend's gentle hold, staggered forward.

  "Where are you going, Lianor?" Diniz asked, anxiously.

  "To him. I must see for myself the terrible truth."

  "Can you bear it?"

  "Yes—oh, yes!"

  Very tenderly Diniz took one of the trembling hands in his, and led her toward a darkened chamber, where, on the blue-draped bed, lay the still form of his young friend.

  A convulsive shudder shook Lianor's slender frame as she gazed on those handsome features set in death's awful calm; the closed eyes, which would never look into her own again; the cold lips which would never breathe loving words into her ear, or press her brow in fond affection.

  She could not weep, as Savitre wept; tears refused to ease the burning pain at her heart. Only a low moan broke from her as she threw herself suddenly over that loved body.

  "My love—my darling! Why did I ever let you leave me? How can I live without you?"

  "Hush, Lianor! Come, you can do nothing here. But one thing I promise you, I will avenge his death at any cost! The murderer will be found and punished—no matter who it is!" Diniz cried, earnestly.

  "Thank you; and if I can aid, rely on my help," Lianor murmured, bravely.

  Then, bending reverently to press a last kiss on the pallid brow, she allowed Diniz to lead her from the room to her own home.

  In the hall they were met by Don Garcia, in a terrible state of anxiety for his daughter.

  "Where have you been, Lianor? What is the matter? You look ill! And what is that?" pointing to a vivid red stain which marred the white purity of her dress.

  A low, delirious laugh broke from the girl's pale lips, and, stretching out her arms, she waved Don Garcia back.

  "Do not touch me!" she cried, hoarsely. "He—my love, my darling—is dead! See, his lifeblood stains my hands—my robe! Oh, heavens, that I should have lived to know such agony!"

  She stopped; the outstretched arms fell inertly down, the graceful head drooped, and without one cry or moan, Lianor fell heavily to the ground—unconscious.

  "Explain, Savitre—Sampayo, what means this strange raving? Who is dead?" Don Garcia said, fearfully.

  "It means that Luiz Falcam was found murdered this morning! Your daughter went to see him for the last time, and returns, overcome with grief and sorrow."

  Without a word, but very white, the viceroy carried his child to her room, and left her in the care of Savitre and her two attendants, while he went to find the particulars of Falcam's tragic end.

  For days and weeks Lianor kept to her rooms, seeing no one except her father and Sampayo, whom she looked upon as the avenger of Luiz.

  Long and tenderly was her lover's memory sorrowed over, until the once beautiful girl was but a mere wraith.

  A few weeks later Don Garcia himself was taken ill, and one day, feeling slightly better, he sent for his daughter, to whom he wished to speak on important business.

  He was not kept long waiting. Lianor soon appeared, looking like a crushed flower in her somber robes.

  "You wished to see me, papa?"

  "Yes, Lianor; but you can almost guess for what. You know how much I desire to see you wedded to my friend; a man who loves you and will make you happy. I shall not live long, of that I feel sure. Manuel Tonza has waited patiently, and I think it is only right you give him hope. To-day you will accept his hand, and in another week, with my consent, you will become his wife."

  Lianor reeled against the bed, and held firmly to the silken curtains to prevent herself falling.

  "Do you mean this, father? His wife—when he murdered Luiz?"

  "What nonsense are you saying, child? Do not let me hear you speak like this again. What motive could a wealthy man like Tonza have in getting rid of one of his own employes? Grief
has turned your brain. Cast aside those weird garments, and in three hours be ready to receive your future husband."

  A low, gasping cry fell on his ears as he finished speaking, and he turned in time to see the slight figure sway to and fro, then fall heavily to the ground.

  But what use was her feeble strength against the powerful wills of two determined men?

  Ere the day was over, Lianor, with a heart full of bitter, despairing grief for Luiz, was bound by a sacred promise to a man whom she knew to be both bad and selfish—whom she hated!

  Chapter III.

  In one of the many straggling streets, almost hidden behind a few large shops of curious build, stood a small boutique full of ancient relics and jeweled bric-a-brac.

  Inside, seated by the counter, writing in a large ledger, was an old man, whose hooked nose and piercing eyes proclaimed him at once to be from the tribe of Israel.

  This Jew, Phenee, was not alone. Flitting about the shop, arranging the antique curiosities, was a young and very beautiful girl, with delicate features and lustrous, black eyes.

  "Can I help you, grandfather?" the girl asked, suddenly stopping before the desk, and leaning both dimpled arms on the dusty book.

  "No, no, Miriam; I have almost finished. Leave me for a few moments' quiet."

  Miriam sank gently on a high chair, and drooping her head pensively on her hand, sat for some time in unbroken silence, gazing out through the open door at the motley crowds passing by.

  Suddenly a dusky form, clad in the garb of a fisherman, entered, and drawing near Phenee, glanced nervously around.

  "I wish to sell that. How much will you give me for it?" laying a jeweled poignard, with a golden chain attached, on the desk.

  Phenee took it up and examined it attentively, then looked searchingly at the man.

  Satisfied at his scrutiny, the Jew named a very low price, one which his customer had some hesitation in accepting; but at last, seeing Phenee was obdurate, he took the offered money, and glided off like a spectre.

  "What a curious poignard, and how pretty!" Miriam said, lifting it from the scales, where Phenee had placed it. "I am surprised he took so little for it."