In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and innocence, had
guardians more effectual than the bolts and bars prescribed by her
vigilant aunt. Still, where is the female bosom proof against the
first whisperings of love? The little damsel, with all her
artlessness, instinctively comprehended all that the faltering
tongue of the page failed to express, and her heart was fluttered at
beholding, for the first time, a lover at her feet- and such a lover!
The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-lived, and
he was recovering his usual ease and confidence, when a shrill voice
was heard at a distance.
"My aunt is returning from mass!" cried the damsel in affright; "I
pray you, senor, depart."
"Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a remembrance."
She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks. "Take it,"
cried she, agitated and blushing, "but pray begone."
The page took the rose, and at the same time covered with kisses the
fair hand that gave it. Then, placing the flower in his bonnet, and
taking the falcon upon his fist, he bounded off through the garden,
bearing away with him the heart of the gentle Jacinta.
When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she remarked the
agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion in the hall; but a
word of explanation sufficed. "A gerfalcon had pursued his prey into
the hall."
"Mercy on us! to think of a falcon flying into the tower.
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