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Rh I made a cross of two little trees with the boughs chopped off, and set it up by the graves. So that is the way our new graveyard was begun,—my father and the little baby; it is the very young and the very old that have the blessed fortune to die. I cannot die, it seems!”

“Where did they bury José?” gasped Ramona.

“In Temecula,” said Alessandro. “Mr. Rothsaker made two of his men dig a grave in our old graveyard for José. But I think Carmena will go at night and bring his body away. I would! But, my Señorita, 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 Señorita!” he said tenderly.

“You have never once called me Ramona.”

“I cannot, Señorita!” he replied.

“Why not?”

“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 Señorita, it is usually by a name you never heard.”