He motioned her to sit beside him, and she complied, lifting his head and carefully leaning it upon her bosom.
Dr.Bryant examined the wound, felt the pulse, and stooping over him, asked: "Nevarro, do you suffer much ?" Manuel laid his hand on the bleeding side, and feebly inclined his head.
"Inez, I can only use one hand, will you assist me in binding this wound ?" She attempted to rise, but Nevarro clutched her hand and gasped--"Too late--too late!" Resolved to do something, if possible, for his relief, Frank beckoned to the Don, who stood near, and with some difficulty they succeeded in passing a bandage round the mouth of the wound.

The groans of the dying man caused even the cheek of the fearless Inez to blanch.

She who scorned danger, and knew not fear, could not witness with out a pang the sufferings of another.

She moaned in very sympathy, and stroked gently back the straight raven hair, now clotted with blood.
The exertion necessarily made proved fatal; the breathing grew short and painful, the pulse slow and feeble.

Appealing was the look which the wounded one bent on Inez: he strove to utter his wishes, but, alas, it was indeed too late.