“No danger of that,” she replied.  “Their father always kept them like wax flowers under a glass cover.  They are as timid as hares.”  Before she finished the words, he was gone.

Rosabella remained where he had left her, with her head bowed on the table.  Floracita was nestling by her side, pouring forth her girlish congratulations.  Madame came in, saying, in her cheerly way:  “So you are going to be married to night!  Bless my soul, how the world whirls round!”

“Isn’t God very good to us?” asked Rosa, looking up.  “How noble and kind Mr. Fitzgerald is, to wish to marry me now that everything is so changed!”

“You are not changed, darling,” she replied; “except that I think you are a little better, and that seemed unnecessary.  But you must be thinking, my children, whether everything is in readiness.”

“He told us we were not to go till evening, and it isn’t dark yet,” said Floracita.  “Couldn’t we go into Papasito’s garden one little minute, and take one sip from the fountain, and just one little walk round the orange-grove?”

“It wouldn’t be safe, my dear.  There’s no telling who may be lurking about.  Mr. Fitzgerald charged me not to let you go out of doors.  But you can go to my chamber, and take a last look of the house and garden.”

They went up stairs, and stood, with their arms around each other, gazing at their once happy home.  “How many times we have walked in that little grove, hand in hand with Mamita and Papasito! and now they are both gone,” sighed Rosa.

“Ah, yes,” said Flora; “and now we are afraid to go there for a minute.  How strangely everything has changed!  We don’t hear Mamita’s Spanish and papa’s English any more.  We have nobody to talk olla podrida to now.  It’s all French with Madame, and all Italian with the Signor.”

“But what kind souls they are, to do so much for us!” responded Rosa.  “If such good friends hadn’t been raised up for us in these dreadful days, what should we have done?”

Here Madame came hurrying in to say, “Mr. Duroy and the boys have come.  We must change dresses before the whistler goes by.”

The disguises were quickly assumed; and the metamorphosis made Rosa both blush and smile, while her volatile sister laughed outright.  But she checked herself immediately, saying:  “I am a wicked little wretch to laugh, for you and your friends may get into trouble by doing all this for us.  What shall you tell them about us when you get back from Nassau?”

“I don’t intend to tell them much of anything,” replied Madame.  “I may, perhaps, give them a hint that one of your father’s old friends invited you to come to the North, and that I did not consider it my business to hinder you.”

“O fie, Madame!” said Floracita; “what a talent you have for arranging the truth with variations!”

Madame tried to return a small volley of French pleasantry; but the effort was obviously a forced one.  The pulses of her heart were throbbing with anxiety and fear; and they all began to feel suspense increasing to agony, when at last the whistled tones of Ca ira were heard.