"Where did they bury Jose?" gasped Ramona.
"In Temecula," said Alessandro. "Mr. Rothsaker made two of his men dig a grave in our old graveyard for Jose. But I think Carmena will go at night and bring his body away. I would! But, my Senorita, it is very dark, I can hardly see your beloved eyes. I think you must not stay longer. Can I go as far as the brook with you, safely, without being seen? The saints bless you, beloved, for coming. I could not have lived, I think, without one more sight of your face;" and, springing to his feet, Alessandro stood waiting for Ramona to move. She remained still. She was in a sore strait. Her heart held but one impulse, one desire,-- to go with Alessandro; nothing was apparently farther from his thoughts than this. Could she offer to go? Should she risk laying a burden on him greater than he could bear? If he were indeed a beggar, as he said, would his life be hindered or helped by her? She felt herself strong and able. Work had no terrors for her; privations she knew nothing of, but she felt no fear of them.
"Alessandro!" she said, in a tone which startled him.
"My Senorita!" he said tenderly.
"You have never once called me Ramona."
"I cannot, Senorita!" he replied.
"I do not know. I sometimes think 'Ramona,'" he added faintly; "but not often. If I think of you by any other name than as my Senorita, it is usually by a name you never heard."
"What is it?" exclaimed Ramona, wonderingly.
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