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82 stealing out from the thick brush wood: a moment more, and she was in her father's arms. But the happiness of their meeting was soon broken in upon by the precariousness of their situation. Don Henriquez was now flying from a dungeon, which he had escaped with a price set upon his head. "Surely, dearest father," exclaimed Beatrice, "you would be safe in your own house; secluded in some of the uninhabited rooms, your wants could be so easily supplied. I would be so prudent, so careful—and your old servants, you cannot doubt their fidelity?" "But I doubt their prudence. A single suspicious circumstance—a single careless word, reaching the village, would bring inevitable ruin on us all. Your poor mother and yourself are at present unmolested—God keep you so! Besides, the lives of too many are now linked with mine for me to run any avoidable risk. I have been here since yesterday—I have lingered about our old haunts in hopes of meeting you, and depart to-morrow with daybreak." "And you have been here for hours, and I knew it not?" "This is no time for my little mountaineer to weep. Are you likely to be missed?"