Wood Rangers, by Captain Mayne Reid. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

PEPE, THE SLEEPER. 

No landscape on the Biscayan coast, presents a more imposing andpicturesque aspect than the little village of Elanchovi. Lying withinan amphitheatre of cliffs, whose crests rise above the roofs of thehouses, the port is protected from the surge of the sea by a handsomelittle jetty of chiselled stone; while the single street of which thevillage is composed, commencing at the inner end of the mole, sweepsboldly up against the face of the precipice. On both sides, the houses, disposed in a sort of _echelon_, rise, terrace-like, one above theother; so that viewed from a distance, the street presents theappearance of a gigantic stairway. 

In these the common dwellings, there is not much variety ofarchitecture; since the village is almost exclusively inhabited by poorfishermen. There is one building, however, that is conspicuous--so muchso as to form the principal feature of the landscape. It is an oldchateau--perhaps the only building of this character in Spain--whoseslate roofs and gothic turrets and vanes, rising above the highest pointof the cliffs, overlook the houses of the village. 

This mansion belonged to the noble family of Mediana, and formed part ofthe grand estates of this ancient house. For a long period, the Countsof Mediana had not inhabited the chateau of Elanchovi, and it had falleninto a state of neglect and partial decay, presenting a somewhat wildand desolate aspect. However, at the beginning of the year 1808, duringthe troubles of the French invasion, the Count Don Juan, then head ofthe family, had chosen it as a safe residence for his young wife DonaLuisa, whom he passionately loved. 

Here Don Juan passed the first months of his married life--a marriagecelebrated under circumstances of sad augury. The younger brother ofDon Juan, Don Antonio de Mediana, had also fervently loved the DonaLuisa; until finding her preference for his brother, he had given up hissuit in anger, and quitted the country. He had gone, no one knewwhither; and though after a time there came back a rumour of his death, it was neither confirmed nor contradicted. 

The principal reason why the Count had chosen this wild spot as aresidence for his lady was this:--He held a high command in the Spanisharmy, and he knew that duty would soon call him into the field. The_alcalde_ of Elanchovi had been an old servant of the Mediana family, and had been raised to his present rank by their influence. Don Juan, therefore, believed he could rely upon the devotion of this functionaryto the interests of his house, and that during his absence Dona Luisawould find security under the magisterial protection. Don Ramon Cohechowas the name of the chief magistrate of Elanchovi. 

The Count was not permitted long to enjoy the happiness of his marriedlife. Just as he had anticipated, he soon received orders to join hisregiment; and parted from the chateau, leaving his young wife under thespecial care of an old and respectable domestic--the steward Juan deDios Canelo. He parted from his home never more to return to it; for inthe battle of Burgos, a French bullet suddenly terminated his existence. 

It was sad tidings for the Dona Luisa; and thus to the joys of the firstdays of her married life succeeded the sorrows of a premature widowhood. 

It was near the close of the year 1808, when the chateau was the sombrewitness of Dona Luisa's grief, that our story commences, and though itsscene lies in another land--thousands of leagues from, the Biscayancoast--its history is intimately woven with that of the chateau ofElanchovi. 

Under ordinary circumstances, the village of Elanchovi presents a severeand dreary aspect. The silence and solitude that reigns along thesummit of the cliffs, contrasted with the continuous roaring of thebreakers against their base, inspires the beholder with a sentiment ofmelancholy. Moreover, the villagers, as already said, being almostexclusively fishermen, and absent during the whole of the day, the placeat first sight would appear as if uninhabited. Occasionally when somecloud is to be observed in the sky, the wives of the fishermen may beseen at the door, in their skirts of bright colours, and their hair inlong double plaits hanging below their waists. These, after remaining awhile to cast anxious glances upon the far horizon, again recross thethresholds of their cottages, leaving the street deserted as before. 

At the time of which we are writing--the month of November, 1808--Elanchovi presented a still more desolate aspect than was its wont. Theproximity of the French army had produced a panic among its inhabitantsand many of these poor people--forgetting in their terror that they hadnothing to lose--had taken to their boats, and sought safety in placesmore distant from the invaders of whom they were in dread. 

Isolated as this little village was on the Biscayan coasts, there wasall the more reason why it should have its garrison of _coast-guards_;and such in reality it had. These at the time consisted of a company ofsoldiers--carabiniers, under the command of a captain Don LucasDespierto--but the condition of these warriors was not one to be envied, for the Spanish government, although nominally keeping them in its pay, had for a long time neglected to pay them. The consequence was, thatthese poor fellows had absolutely nothing upon which to live. Theseizure of smuggled goods--with which they might have contrived toindemnify themselves--was no longer possible. The contraband trade, under this system, was completely annihilated. The smugglers knewbetter than to come in contact with _coast-guards_ whose performance oftheir duty was stimulated by such a keen necessity! From the captainhimself down to the lowest official, an incessant vigilance was keptup--the result of which was that the fiscal department of the Spanishgovernment was, perhaps, never so faithfully or economically served. 

There was one of these coast-guards who affected a complete scepticismin regard to smuggling--he even went so far as to deny that it had everexisted! He was distinguished among his companions by a singularhabit--that of always going to sleep upon his post; and this habit, whether feigned or real, had won for him the name of _the Sleeper_. Onthis account it may be supposed, that he was never placed upon guardwhere the post was one of importance. 

Jose, or as he was more familiarly styled, _Pepe_, was a young fellow ofsome twenty-five years--tall, thin, and muscular. His black eyes, deeply set under bushy eyebrows, had all the appearance of eyes that_could_ sparkle; besides, his whole countenance possessed theconfiguration of one who had been born for a life of activity. On thecontrary, however--whether from a malady or some other cause--the manappeared as somnolent and immobile as if both his visage and body werecarved out of marble. In a word, with all the exterior marks thatdenote the possession of an active and ardent soul, Pepe _the Sleeper_appeared the most inactive and apathetic of men. 

His chagrin was great--or appeared to be so--when, upon the evening ofthe day in which this narrative commences the captain of the coast-guardsent a messenger to summon him to headquarters. 

On receiving the unexpected order, Pepe rose from his habitual attitudeof recumbence, stretched himself at his leisure, yawned several times, and then obeyed the summons, saying as he went out: "What the devilfancy has the captain got into his head to send for _me_?"

Once, however, on the way and alone, it might have been observed thatthe somnolent coast-guard walked with an energetic and active step, veryunlike his usual gait!

On entering the apartment where the captain awaited him, his apathetichabit returned; and, while rolling a cigarette between his fingers, heappeared to be half asleep. The captain was buried in a profoundmeditation, and did not at first perceive him. 

"_Bueno_! my captain, " said the coast-guard, respectfully saluting hissuperior, and calling attention to his presence. "I am here. "

"Ah! good! my fine fellow, " began the captain, in a winning voice. "Well, Pepe!" added he more slowly and significantly, "the times arepretty hard with us--are they not?"

"Rather hard, captain. "

"But you, _hombre_!" rejoined Don Lucas, with a laugh, "you don't appearto suffer much of the misery--you are always asleep I understand?"

"When I sleep, captain, I am not hungry, " replied the coast-guard, endeavouring to stifle a yawn; "then I dream that the government haspaid me. "

"Well--at all events you are not its creditor for many hours of the day, since you sleep most of them. But, my fine fellow, it is not about thisI desire to talk to you. I wish to give you a proof of my confidence. "

"Ah!" muttered Pepe. 

"And a proof of my regard for you, " continued the officer. "Thegovernment has its eye open upon all of us; your reputation for apathybegins to be talked about, and you might be discharged one of these daysas a useless official. It would be a sad affair if you were to loseyour place?"

"Frightful! captain, " replied Pepe, with perfect simplicity of manner;"for if I can scarce keep from dying of hunger in my place, what wouldbe the result were I deprived of it? Frightful!"

"To prevent this misfortune, then, " continued the captain, "I haveresolved to furnish to those who calumniate you, a proof of theconfidence which may be placed in you, by giving you the post of_Ensenada_--and this very night. "

Pepe involuntarily opened his eyes to their fullest extent. 

"That surprises you?" said Don Lucas. 

"No, " laconically replied the coast-guard. 

The captain was unable to conceal from his inferior a slight confusion, and his voice trembled as he pronounced the interrogation:--

"What! It does not surprise you?"

"No, " repeated Pepe, and then added in a tone of flattery: "The captainDespierto is so well-known for his vigilance and energy, that he mayconfide the most important post to the very poorest of his sentinels. That is why I am not astonished at the confidence he is good enough toplace in me: and now I await the instructions your Honour may be pleasedto give. "

Don Lucas, without further parley, proceeded to instruct his sentinel inhis duty for the night. The orders were somewhat diffuse--so much sothat Pepe had a difficulty in comprehending them--but they were wound upby the captain saying to the coast-guard, as he dismissed him from hispresence--

"And above all, my fine fellow, _don't go to sleep upon your post_!"

"I shall _try_ not to do so, captain, " replied Pepe, at the same timesaluting his superior, and taking his leave. 

"This fellow is worth his weight in gold, " muttered Don Lucas, rubbinghis hands together with an air of satisfaction; "he could not havesuited my purpose better, if he had been expressly made for it!"

CHAPTER TWO. 

THE SENTINEL OF LA ENSENADA. 

The little bay of Ensenada, thus confided to the vigilance of Pepe thesleeper, was mysteriously shut in among the cliffs, as if nature haddesigned it expressly for smugglers--especially those Spanish_contrabandistas_ who carry on the trade with a cutlass in one hand anda carbine in the other. 

On account of its isolation, the post was not without danger, especiallyon a foggy November night, when the thick vapour suspended in the airnot only rendered the sight useless, but hindered the voice that mightcall for assistance from being heard to any distance. 

In the soldier who arrived upon this post, advancing with head erect andlight elastic tread, no one could have recognised Pepe the sleeper--Pepe, habitually plunged in a profound state of somnolence--Pepe, ofdowncast mien and slow dragging gait--and yet it was he. His eyes, habitually half shut, were now sparkling in their sockets, as if eventhe slightest object could not escape him even in the darkness. 

After having carefully examined the ground around his post, andconvinced himself that he was entirely alone, he placed his lantern insuch a position that its light was thrown along the road leading to thevillage. Then advancing some ten or twelve paces in the direction ofthe water, he spread his cloak upon the ground, and lay down upon it--insuch an attitude that he could command a view both of the road and thebay. 

"Ah, my captain!" soliloquised the coast-guard, as he arranged his cloakaround him to the best advantage, "you are a very cunning man, but youhave too much faith in people who are always asleep; and devil take me!if I don't believe that you are interested in my sleeping most soundlyon this particular night. Well, _quien sabe_? we shall see. "

For about the period of half an hour Pepe remained alone--deliveringhimself up to his reflections, and in turns interrogating with hisglance the road and the bay. At the end of that time a footstep washeard in the loose sand; and looking along the pathway, the sentinelperceived a dark form approaching the spot. In another moment the formcame under the light of the lantern, and was easily recognised as thatof Don Lucas, the captain of the coast-guard. 

The officer appeared to be searching for something, but presentlyperceiving the recumbent sentinel, he paused in his steps. 

"Pepe!" cried he, in a low mincing voice. 

No reply came from Pepe. 

"Pepe!" repeated the captain, in a tone a little more elevated. 

Still no reply from the sentinel, who remained obstinately silent. 

The captain, appearing to be satisfied, ceased calling the name, andshortly after retraced his steps towards the village. In a few secondshis form was lost in the distance. 

"Good!" said Pepe, as his superior officer passed out of sight; "just asI expected. A moment ago I was fool enough to doubt it. Now I am sureof it. Some smuggler is going to risk it to-night. Well, I shallmanage badly if I don't come in for a windfall--though it be at theexpense of my captain. "

Saying this, the sentinel with one bound rose erect upon his feet. 

"Here I am no more Pepe the Sleeper, " continued he stretching himself tohis full height. 

From this time his eyes were bent continually upon the ocean; butanother half hour passed without anything strange showing itself uponthe bosom of the water--nothing to break the white line of the horizonwhere sea and sky appeared to be almost confounded together. Some darkclouds were floating in the heavens, now veiling and now suddenlyuncovering the moon, that had just risen. The effect was fine; thehorizon was one moment shining like silver, and the next dark as funeralcrape; but through all these changes no object appeared upon the water, to denote the presence of a human being. 

For a long while the coast-guard looked so intently through thedarkness, that he began to see the sparks flying before his eyes. Fatigued with this sustained attention, he at length shut his eyesaltogether, and concentrated all his powers upon the organs of hearing. Just then a sound came sweeping over the water--so slight that it scarcereached him--but the next moment the land-breeze carried it away, and itwas heard no more. 

Fancying it had only been an illusion, he once more opened his eyes, butin the obscurity he could see nothing. Again he shut them closely andlistened as before. This time he listened with more success. A soundregularly cadenced was heard. It was such as would be made by a pair ofoars cautiously dipped, and was accompanied by a dull knocking as of theoars working in their thole-pins. 

"At last we shall see!" muttered Pepe, with a gasp of satisfaction. 

A small black point, almost imperceptible, appeared upon the horizon. Rapidly it increased in size, until it assumed the form and dimensionsof a boat with rowers in it, followed by a bright strip of foam. 

Pepe threw himself suddenly _a plat ventre_, in fear that he might beseen by those on the water; but from the elevated position which heoccupied, he was able to keep his eye upon the boat without losing sightof it for a single instant. 

Just then the noises ceased, and the oars were held out of water, motionless, like some sea-bird, with wings extended, choosing a spotupon which to alight. In the next instant the rowing was resumed, andthe boat headed directly for the shore of the bay. 

"Don't be afraid!" muttered the coast-guard, affecting to apostrophisethe rowers. "Don't be afraid, my good fellows--come along at yourpleasure!"

The rowers, in truth did not appear to be at all apprehensive of danger;and the next moment the keel of the boat was heard grinding upon thesand of the beach. 

"_Por Dios_!" muttered the sentinel in a low voice; "not a bale ofgoods! It is possible after all, they are not smugglers!"

Three men were in the boat, who did not appear to take those precautionswhich smugglers would have done. They made no particular noise, but, onthe other hand, they did not observe any exact silence. Moreover theircostume was not that ordinarily worn by the regular _contrabandista_. 

"Who the devil can they be?" asked Pepe of himself. 

The coast-guard lay concealed behind some tufts of withered grass thatformed a border along the crest of the slope. Through these he couldobserve the movements of the three men in the boat. 

At an order from the one who sat in the stern sheets, the other twoleaped ashore, as if with the design of reconnoitring the ground. Hewho issued the order, and who appeared to be the chief of the party, remained seated in the boat. 

Pepe was for a moment undecided whether he should permit the two to passhim on the road; but the view of the boat, left in charge of a singleman, soon fixed his resolution. 

He kept his place, therefore, motionless as ever, scarce allowinghimself to breathe, until the two men arrived below him, and only a fewfeet from the spot where he was lying. 

Each was armed with a long Catalonian knife, and Pepe could see that thecostume which both wore was that of the Spanish privateers of the time--a sort of mixture of the uniform of the royal navy of Spain, and that ofthe merchant service; but he could not see their faces, hid as they wereunder the slouched Basque bonnet. 

All at once the two men halted. A piece of rock, detached by the kneesof the coast-guard, had glided down the slope and fallen near theirfeet. 

"Did you hear anything?" hastily asked one. 

"No; did you?"

"I thought I heard something falling from above there, " replied thefirst speaker; pointing upward to the spot where Pepe was concealed. 

"Bah! it was some mouse running into its hole. "

"If this slope wasn't so infernally steep, I'd climb up and see, " saidthe first. 

"I tell you we have nothing to fear, " rejoined the second; "the night isas black as a pot of pitch, and besides--the _other_, hasn't he assuredus that he will answer for the man on guard, _who sleeps all day long_?"

"Just for that reason he may not sleep at night. Remain here, I'll goround and climb up. _Carramba_! if I find this sleepy-head, " he added, holding out his long knife, the blade of which glittered through thedarkness, "so much the worse--or, perhaps, so much the better for him--for I shall send him where he may sleep forever. "

"_Mil diablos_!" thought Pepe, "this fellow is a philosopher! By theholy virgin I am long enough here. "

And at this thought, he crept out of the folds of his cloak like a snakeout of his skin, and leaving the garment where it lay, crawled rapidlyaway from the spot. 

Until he had got to a considerable distance, he was so cautious not tomake any noise, that, to use a Spanish expression, _the very grounditself did not know he was passing over it_. 

In this way he advanced, carbine in hand, until he was opposite thepoint where the boat rested against the beach. There he stopped torecover his breath, --at the same time fixing his eye upon the individualthat was alone. 

The latter appeared to be buried in a sombre reverie, motionless as astatue, and wrapped in an ample cloak, which served both to conceal hisperson and protect him from the humidity of the atmosphere. His eyeswere turned toward the sea; and for this reason he did not perceive thedark form of the carabinier approaching in the opposite direction. 

The latter advanced with stealthy tread--measuring the distance with hiseye--until at length he stood within a few paces of the boat. 

Just then the stranger made a movement as if to turn his face towardsthe shore, when Pepe, like a tiger hounding upon its prey, launchedhimself forward to the side of the boat. 

"It is I!" he exclaimed, bringing the muzzle of his carbine on a levelwith the man's breast. "Don't move or you are a dead man!"

"You, who?" asked the astonished stranger, his eyes sparkling with rage, and not even lowering their glance before the threatening attitude ofhis enemy. 

"Why me! Pepe--you know well enough? Pepe, the Sleeper?"

"Curses upon him, if he has betrayed me?" muttered, the stranger, as ifspeaking to himself. 

"If you are speaking of Don Lucas Despierto, " interrupted thecarabinier, "I can assure you he is incapable of such a thing; and if I_am here_ it is because that he has been only too discreet, senorsmuggler. "

"Smuggler!" exclaimed the unknown, in a tone of proud disdain. 

"When I say smuggler, " replied Pepe, chuckling at his own perspicuity, "it is only meant as a compliment, for you haven't an ounce ofmerchandise in your boat, unless indeed, " continued he, pointing withhis foot to a rope ladder, rolled up, and lying in the bottom, "unlessthat may be a sample! _Santa Virgen_! a strange sample that!"

Face to face with the unknown, the coast-guard could now examine him athis leisure. 

He was a young man of about Pepe's own age, twenty-five. His complexionhad the hale tint of one who followed the sea for a profession. Thickdark eyebrows were strongly delineated against a forehead bony andbroad, and from a pair of large black eyes shone a sombre fire thatdenoted a man of implacable passions. His arched mouth was expressiveof high disdain; and the wrinkles upon his cheeks, strongly markednotwithstanding his youth, at the slightest movement, gave to hiscountenance an expression of arrogance and scorn. In his eyes--in hiswhole bearing--you could read that ambition or vengeance were the rulingpassions of his soul. His fine black curling hair alone tempered theexpression of severity that distinguished his physiognomy. With regardto his costume, it was simply that of an officer of the Spanish navy. 

A look that would have frightened most men told the impatience withwhich he endured the examination of the coast-guard. 

"An end to this pleasantry!" he cried out, at length. "What do youwant, fellow? Speak!"

"Ah! talk of our affairs, " answered Pepe, "that is just what I desire. Well, in the first place, when those two fellows of yours return with mycloak and lantern--which they are cunning enough to make a seizure of--you will give them your commands to keep at a distance. In this way wecan talk without being interrupted. Otherwise, with a single shot ofthis carbine, which will stretch you out dead, I shall also give thealarm. What say you? Nothing? Be it so. That answer will do for wantof a better. I go on. You have given to my captain forty _onzas_?"continued the carabinier, with a bold guess, making sure that he namedenough. 

"Twenty, " replied the stranger, without reflecting. 

"I would rather it had been forty, " said Pepe. "Well, one does not payso high for the mere pleasure of a sentimental promenade along the shoreof the Ensenada. My intervention need be no obstruction to it--providedyou pay for my neutrality. "

"How?" asked the unknown, evidently desirous of putting an end to thescene. 

"Oh, a mere bagatelle--you have given the captain forty _onzas_. "

"Twenty, I tell you. "

"I would rather it had been forty, " coolly repeated the carabinier, "butsay twenty, then. Now I don't wish to be indiscreet--he is a captain, Iam nothing more than a poor private. I think it reasonable therefore, that I should have _double_ what he has received. "

At this extortionate demand the stranger allowed a bitter oath to escapehim, but made no answer. 

"I know well, " continued Pepe, "that I am asking too little. If mycaptain has three times my pay, of course he has three times less needof money than I, and therefore I have the right to _triple_ the sum hehas received; but as the times are hard, I hold to my original demand--forty _onzas_. "

A terrible struggle betwixt pride and apprehension appeared to be goingon in the bosom of the stranger. Despite the coldness of the night theperspiration streamed over his brow and down his cheeks. Some imperiousnecessity it was that had led him into this place--some strange mysterythere must be--since the necessity he was now under tamed down a spiritthat appeared untamable. The tone of jeering intrepidity which Pepeheld toward him caused him to feel the urgency of a compromise; and atlength plunging his hand into his pocket he drew forth a purse, andpresented it to the carabinier. 

"Take it and go!" he cried, with impatience. 

Pepe took the purse, and for a moment held it in his hand as if he wouldfirst count its contents. 

"Bah!" he exclaimed, after a pause, "I'll risk it. I accept it forforty _onzas_. And now, senor stranger, I am deaf, dumb, and blind. "

"I count upon it, " coldly rejoined the unknown. 

"By the life of my mother!" replied Pepe, "since it's not an affair ofsmuggling I don't mind to lend you a hand--for as a coast-guard, yousee, I could not take part in anything contraband--no, never!"

"Very well, then, " rejoined the stranger, with a bitter smile, "you mayset your conscience at rest on that score. Guard this boat till myreturn. I go to join my men. Only whatever happens--whatever you maysee--whatever you may hear--be, as you have promised, deaf, dumb, andblind. "

As he uttered these words the stranger sprang out of the boat, and tookthe road leading to the village. A turning in the path soon bid himfrom the sight of the coast-guard. 

Once left to himself, Pepe, under the light of the moon, counted out theglittering contents of the purse which he had extorted from thestranger. 

"If this jewel is not false, " muttered he to himself, "then I don't careif the government never pays me. Meanwhile, I must begin to-morrow tocry like a poor devil about the back pay. That will have a goodeffect. "

CHAPTER THREE. 

THE ALCALDE AND HIS CLERK. 

It is not known how long Pepe remained at his post to await the returnof the stranger: when the cock was heard to crow, and the auroraappeared in the eastern horizon, the little bay of Ensenada wascompletely deserted. 

Then life began to appear in the village. The dark shadows of thefishermen were seen upon the stair-like street, descending to the mole;and the first beams of the morning lit up their departure. In a fewminutes the little flotilla was out of sight; and at the doors of thecottages the women and children only could be seen, appearing anddisappearing at intervals. 

Among these wretched hovels of the village, there was one dwelling ofgreater pretensions than the rest. It was that of the alcalde, DonRamon Cohecho of whom we have already spoken. It alone still kept itsdoors and windows closed against the morning light. 

It was full day, when a young man, wearing a high-crowned beaver hat, --old, greasy and shining, like leather--walked up to the door of thealcalde's mansion. The limbs of this individual were scantily coveredwith a pair of pantaloons, so tightly fitting as to appear like a secondskin to his legs, so short as scarce to touch his ankles, and of suchthin stuff as to ill protect the wearer from the sharp air of a Novembermorning. The upper half of this individual was not visible. A littlecloak, of coarse shaggy cloth, known as an _esclavina_, covered him upto the very eyes. In the manner in which he so carefully guarded theupper part of his person with this pinched mantle, at the expense of histhighs and legs, an observer might have supposed that he was perfectlycontent with his pantaloons. Appearances, however, are often deceptive;for in truth the ambition of this youth; whose unsteady glance, miserable aspect, and a certain smell of old papers about him, proclaimed to be _un escribano_--his everyday dream was to have a pairof pantaloons entirely different from his own--in other words, a pairwith long ample legs, of good wide waist, and made out of finebroadcloth. Such a pair would render him the most satisfied man in theworld. 

This young man was the _right hand_ of the alcalde--his name GregorioCagatinta. 

On reaching the door, he gave a modest knock with his horn ink-bottle, which he carried hanging to his button. The door was opened by an oldhousekeeper. 

"Ah! it is you, _Don_ Gregorio?" cried the housekeeper, with that superbcourtesy so peculiar to the Spaniards--that even two shoeblacks onmeeting lavish upon each other the epithet _Don_, as if each were agrand noble. 

"Yes, it is I, Dona Nicolasa, " replied Gregorio. 

"_Santisima Virgen_!--since it is you, then I must be late, and mymaster will be waiting for his pantaloons that are not yet aired. Takea seat, Don Gregorio: he will soon be down. "

The chamber into which the notary's clerk had been introduced would havebeen a large one, had it not been for the singular conglomeration ofobjects with which it was more than half filled. Nets of all sizes, masts, yards, and rudders of boats, oars, sails of every kind--bothsquare and lateen--woollen shirts worn by sailors or fishermen, and avariety of other marine objects, were placed pellmell in every corner ofthe room. Notwithstanding, there was space enough left to hold three orfour chairs around a large oaken table, upon which last stood a largecork ink-stand, with several goose-quill pens; with some sheets of halfdirty paper placed ostentatiously around it to awe the visitors, whomight have business with the alcalde. 

The presence of this odd assortment of objects, it would have beendifficult for a stranger to explain--though there was no mystery aboutit. The fact is, that besides his official character as firstmagistrate, the alcalde had another _role_ which he played, of rather anunofficial character. He was the _pawnbroker_ of the place--that is, helent out money in small sums, charging a _real_ for every dollar by theweek--in other words, a simple interest of twenty per cent, by themonth, or two hundred and fifty per cent, per annum! His clients beingall fishermen, will account for the nautical character of the "pledges"that filled the chamber of audience. 

Cagatinta scarce deigned to cast a look at this miscellaneous collectionof objects. Had there been a pair of pantaloons among them, it mighthave been different; for to say the truth, the probity of Don Gregoriowas scarce firm enough to have resisted so strong a temptation as thiswould have been. The notary's clerk was not exactly of that stuff ofwhich honest men are composed. Nature, even in its crimes, does notleap to grand villainies at once; it proceeds from less to greater; andCagatinta, though still but young, was yet capable of a little bit of"cribbing. "

Don Ramon was not long in coming out of his sleeping-room. In a littlewhile he showed his jovial face at the door of the audience chamber. 

He was a person of portly and robust figure; and it was easily seen thatone leg of his ample pantaloons would have been sufficient to have madea pair for the thin limbs and meagre body of the escribano. 

"_Por Dios_! Senor alcalde, " said the clerk, after having exchangedwith his superior a profusion of matinal salutations, "what a splendidpair of pantaloons you have on!"

From the alcalde's answer, it was evident that this was not the firsttime that Cagatinta had made the remark. 

"Ah! Gregorio, _amigo_!" replied he, in a tone of good-humour, "you aregrowing tiresome with your repetitions. Patience, patience, senorescribano! you know that for the services you are to render me--I saynothing of those already rendered--I have promised you my liver-colouredbreeches, which have been only a very little used: you have only to gainthem. "

"But what services are to gain them, senor alcalde?" inquired the clerk, in a despairing tone. 

"Eh--Dios!--who knows what--patience, _amigo_! Something may turn upall at once, that will give you that advantage over me. But come! letus to business--make out the deed of appropriation of the boat of thatbad pay, Vicente Perez, who under pretence that he has six brats tofeed, can't reimburse me the twenty dollars I have advanced him. "

Cagatinta drew out from his little portfolio a sheet of stamped paper, and sitting down by the table proceeded to execute the order of themagistrate. He was interrupted by a hurried knocking at the outerdoor--which had been closed to prevent intrusion. 

"Who dare knock in that fashion?" sharply inquired the alcalde. 

"_Ave Maria purisima_!" cried a voice from without. 

"_Sin pecado concebida_!" replied at the same time the two acolyteswithin. 

And upon this formula, Gregorio hastened to the door, and opened it. 

"What on earth can have brought you here at this hour, Don Juan de DiosCanelo?" inquired the alcalde in a tone of surprise, as the old stewardof the Countess de Mediana appeared in the doorway, his bald foreheadclouded with some profound chagrin. 

"Ah, senor alcalde, " replied the old man, "a terrible misfortune hashappened last night--a great crime has been committed--the Countess hasdisappeared, and the young Count along with her!"

"Are you sure of this?" shouted the alcalde. 

"Alas--you will only have to go up into the balcony that overlooks thesea, and there you will see in what state the assassins have left theCountess's chamber. "

"Justice! justice! Senor alcalde! Send out your alguazils over thewhole country; find the villains--hang them!"

This voice came from a woman still outside in the street. It was the_femme de chambre_ of the Countess, who, to show a devotion which shevery little felt, judged it apropos to make a great outcry as sheprecipitated herself into the chamber of audience. 

"Ta-ta-ta, woman! how you go on!" interrupted the alcalde. "Do youthink I have a crowd of alguazils? You know very well that in thisvirtuous village there are only two; and as these would starve if theydidn't follow some trade beside their official one, they are both gonefishing hours ago. "

"Ah, me!" cried the _femme de chambre_, with a hypocritical whine, "mypoor mistress!--who then is to help her?"

"Patience, woman, patience!" said the alcalde. "Don't fear but thatjustice will be done. "

The chamber-maid did not appear to draw much hope from the assurance, but only redoubled her cries, her excited behaviour strongly contrastingwith the quiet manner in which the faithful old steward exhibited thesincerity of his grief. 

Meanwhile a crowd of women, old men, and children, had gathered aroundthe alcalde's door, and by little and little, were invading thesanctuary of the audience chamber itself. 

Don Ramon advanced towards Cagatinta, who was rubbing his hands underhis _esclavina_, charmed at the idea of the quantity of stamped paper hewould now have an opportunity to blacken. 

"Now, friend Gregorio, " said the alcalde, in a low voice, "the time hascome, when, if you are sharp, you may gain the liver-coloured breeches. "

He said no more; but it was evident that the _escribano_ understood him, at least, to a certain extent. The latter turned pale with joy, andkept his eye fixed upon every movement of his patron, determined toseize the first opportunity that presented itself of winning thebreeches. 

The alcalde reseated himself in his great leathern chair; and commandingsilence with a wave of his hand, addressed his auditory in a long andpompous speech, with that profuse grandiloquence of which the Spanishlanguage is so capable. 

The substance of his speech was as follows:

"My children! We have just heard from this respectable individual, DonJuan de Dios Canelo, that a great crime has last night been committed;the full knowledge of this villainy cannot fail to arrive at the ears ofjustice, from which nothing can be kept hid. Not the less are we tothank Don Juan for his official communication; it only remains for himto complete the accusation by giving the names of the guilty persons. "

"But, senor alcalde, " interrupted the steward, "I do not know them, although, as you say, my communication may be official--I can only saythat I will do all in my power to assist in finding them. "

"You understand, my children, " continued the alcalde, without takingnotice of what the steward had said, "the worthy Canelo by his officialcommunication asks for the punishment of the guilty persons. Justicewill not be deaf to his appeal. I may now be permitted, however, tospeak to you of my own little affairs, before abandoning myself to thegreat grief which the disappearance of the Countess and the young Counthas caused me. "

Here the alcalde made a sign to Cagatinta, whose whole faculties werekeenly bent to discover what service was expected from him, by which hewas to gain the object of his ambition--the liver-coloured breeches. 

The alcalde continued:--

"You all know, my children, of my attachment to the family of Mediana. You can judge, then, of the grief which this news has given me--news themore incomprehensible, since one neither knows by whom, or for whatreason such a crime should be committed. Alas, my children! I lose apowerful protector in the Countess de Mediana; and in me the heart ofthe old and faithful servant is pierced with anguish, while as a man ofbusiness I am equally a sufferer. Yes, my children! In the deceitfulsecurity, which I felt no later than yesterday, I was up to the chateau, and had an important interview with the Countess in regard to my rents. "

"To ask time for their payment, " Cagatinta would have added, for theclerk was perfectly acquainted with the alcalde's affairs. But DonRamon did not allow him an opportunity of committing this enormousindiscretion, which would forever have deprived him of the promisedbreeches. 

"Patience, worthy Cagatinta!" he exclaimed hastily, so as to prevent theother from speaking, "constrain this thirst for justice that consumesyou!--Yes, my children!" he continued, turning to his auditory, "inconsequence of this feeling of security, which I have now cause toregret, I placed in the hands of the unfortunate Countess, "--here thevoice of Don Ramon quivered--"a sum equivalent to ten years of my rents_in advance_. "

At this unexpected declaration, Cagatinta bounded from his chair as ifstung by a wasp; and the blood ran cold in his veins when he perceivedthe grand blunder he had been so near committing. 

"You will understand, then, my children, the terrible situation in whichthis disappearance of the Countess has placed me, when I tell you that I_took no receipt from the lady_, but this very morning was to have goneup for it. "

This revelation produced a profound sensation among the auditory; andthough perhaps not one of them really believed the story, no one daredto give utterance to his incredulity. 

"Fortunately, " continued the alcalde, "the word of persons worthy ofcredit may yet repair the mistake I have committed--fortunately therewere witnesses of the payment. "

Here Cagatinta--who like water that had been a long time dammed up andhad now found vent--stretched out both his arms, and in a loud voicecried out:

"I can swear to it!"

"He can swear to it, " said the alcalde. 

"He can swear to it, " mechanically repeated one or two of thebystanders. 

"Yes, my friends!" solemnly added Cagatinta. "I swear to it now, andshould have mentioned the matter sooner, but I was prevented by a littleuncertainty. I had an idea that it was _fifteen_ years of rent, insteadof _ten_, that I saw the alcalde hand over to the unfortunate DonaLuisa. "

"No, my worthy friend, " interrupted the alcalde in a tone of moderation, likely to produce an effect upon his auditory. "It was only ten yearsof rent, which your valuable testimony will hinder me from losing. "

"Yes, senor alcalde, " replied the wily scribe, determined at all hazardsto deserve the liver-coloured breeches, "I know it was ten years inadvance, but there were also the two years of back rent which you paid--two years of arrears and ten in advance--twelve years in all. _PorDios_! a large sum it would be to have lost!"

And with this reflection Cagatinta sat down again, fancying, no doubt, that he had fairly won the breeches. 

We shall not detail what further passed during the scene in thealcalde's chamber of audience--where justice was practised as in thetimes of Gil Blas--long before and long after Gil Blas--for it is notvery different in a Spanish law court at the hour in which we arewriting. 

Enough to say that the scene concluded, most of the dramatis personae, with the alcalde at their head, proceeded to the chateau, to inspect thechamber, and if possible find out some clue to the mysteriousdisappearance of the Countess. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

THE FORSAKEN CHAMBER. 

On arriving at the chateau, the alcalde ordered the door of theCountess's chamber to be burst in--for it was still bolted inside. Onentering the apartment a picture of confusion was presented. Drawersempty, others drawn out, but only half sacked of their contents. 

All this did not indicate precisely that there had been any violence. Avoluntary but hurried departure on the part of the Countess might haveleft just such traces as were discovered. The bed was stillundisturbed, as if she had not lain down upon it. This fact appeared toindicate a foreknowledge, on the part of the lady, of what was tohappen--as if she had had the intention of going off, but had made nopreparation until the moment of departure. The furniture was all in itsplace--the window curtains and those of the alcove had not beendisarranged, and no traces of a struggle were to be discerned within thechamber, which contained many light fragile objects of furniture thatcould not fail to have been destroyed by the slightest violence. 

The fetid odour of an oil lamp filled the apartment despite the cold airthat came in through the open window. It was evident, therefore, thatthis lamp had been left alight, and had continued to burn until the oilhad become exhausted. 

It could not be a robbery either. A thousand articles of value, likelyenough to have tempted the cupidity of robbers, were left behind both onthe tables and in the drawers. 

The conclusion then was that neither assassination nor burglary hadtaken place. 

Notwithstanding all these deceptive appearances, the old steward shookhis head doubtfully. The signs were sufficient to baffle his reason, which was none of the strongest, but the faithful servant could notbring himself to believe that his noble mistress would take flight in amanner so extraordinary--his good sense revolted at the thought. In hisbelief some crime had been committed, but how was it to be explained--since the assassin had left no traces of his guilt? The devoted DonJuan looked with a sad eye upon that desolate chamber--upon the dressesof his beloved mistress scattered over the floor; upon the cradle of theyoung Count, where he had so lately slept, rosy and smiling, under thevigil of his mother. 

Suddenly struck with an idea, the steward advanced towards the ironbalcony that fronted upon the sea--that where the window had been foundopen. With inquiring eye he looked to the ground below, which wasneither more nor less than the beach of the sea itself. It was at nogreat depth below; and he could easily have seen from the balcony anytraces that might have been there. But there were none. The tide hadbeen in and out again. No trace was left on the sand or pebbles thathad the slightest signification in regard to the mysterious event. Thewind sighed, the waves murmured as always; but amid the voices of naturenone raised itself to proclaim the guilty. 

On the fair horizon only were descried the white sails of a ship, gradually passing outwards and fading away into the azure of the sea. 

While the old steward watched the disappearance of the ship with a sortof dreamy regard, he sent up a silent prayer that his mistress mightstill be safe. The others, with the exception of the alcalde and hisclerk, stood listening to the mournful howling of the wind against thecliffs, which seemed alternately to weep and sigh as if lamenting thesad event that had just transpired. 

As regards the alcalde and his assistant, they were under the sameconviction as Don Juan--both believing that a crime had been committed--though they did not care to avow their belief, for reasons known tothemselves. The absence of any striking evidence that might lead to thediscovery of the delinquents, but more especially the difficulty offinding some interested individual able to pay the expenses of justice(the principal object of criminal prosecutions in Spain), damped thezeal of Don Ramon and the scribe. Both were satisfied to leave thingsas they stood--the one contented with having gained the recompense somuch coveted--the other with the twelve years of rents which he feltsure of gaining. 

"_Valga me Dios_! my children, " said the alcalde, turning toward thewitnesses, "I cannot explain what fancy the Countess may have had ingoing out by the window--for the door of the chamber, bolted inside, leaves no room to doubt that she went that way. Some woman's caprice, perhaps, which justice has no business to meddle with. "

"Perhaps it was to escape from giving the alcalde his receipt, "suggested one of the bystanders to another, in an undertone of voice. 

"But how, Don Juan, " continued the magistrate, addressing himself to theold steward, "how did you know of the Countess's disappearance, sinceyou could not get into the room?"

"That is simple enough, " replied the old man. "At the hour in which thechamber-maid is accustomed to present herself before the senora, sheknocked as usual at the door. No answer was given. She knocked louder, and still received no answer. Growing anxious, she came to me to tellme. I went to the door myself, first knocked and then called; andreceiving no reply, I ran round to the garden and got the ladder. ThisI placed against the balcony, and mounted up in order to see through thewindow. On reaching the window I found it open, and the chamber in thecondition you now see it. "

When the steward had finished this declaration, Cagatinta whispered somewords in the ear of the alcalde; but the latter only replied by a shakeof the shoulders, and an expression of disdainful incredulity. 

"Who knows?" answered the scribe in reply to this dumb show. 

"It might be, " muttered Don Ramon, "we shall see presently. "

"I persist, gentlemen, " continued the alcalde, "in my belief that theCountess has gone out by the window; and however singular it may appear, I believe the lady is free to her fancy to go out as she pleases--eventhough it be by a window. "

Cagatinta, and some others, complimented, with a laugh, this little bitof magisterial facetiousness. 

"But, senor alcalde, " spoke out Don Juan, disgusted with this ill-timedpleasantry, "a proof that there has been a forced entry into the chamberis this broken glass of the window, of which you see some pieces stilllying on the balcony. "

"This old fool, " muttered the alcalde to himself, "is not going to letme have any breakfast. By this time everything will be cold, andNicolasa--What do these bits of glass prove?" he continued, raising hisvoice; "don't you think that the breeze which was blowing roughly lastnight might have caused this? The window was hanging open, and the windclashing it violently against the frame, would readily cause thebreaking of a pane?"

"But why is it, " answered Don Juan, "that the broken pane is preciselythe one adjacent to the fastening? It must have been knocked out to getthe window open. "

"_Carramba_! Senor Don Juan de Dios!" cried the alcalde, in a peevishtone--at the same time biting his gold-headed cane, the emblem of hisoffice--"Is it you or I who have here the right to ask questions?_Carrai_! it appears to me that you make me cut a strange figure!"

Here Cagatinta interposed with a modest air--

"I shall answer our friend Canelo, if you permit me. If the window wasopen with the design he has stated, it must of course have been donefrom the outside. The pieces of glass then would have fallen _into_ thechamber; but such is not the case--there they lie on the balcony! Ithas been the wind therefore, as his honour the alcalde has reasonablystated, that has done this business. Unless, indeed, " added he, with afeigned smile, "some trunk carried incautiously past the window mighthave struck one of the squares. This may have been--since it appearsthe Countess intends a prolonged absence, judging from the effects--taken with her, as testified by the empty drawers. "

The old steward lowered his head at this proof which seemed completelyto falsify his assertion. He did not hear the last observation ofCagatinta, who was cogitating whether he ought not to exact from thealcalde something more than the liver-coloured breeches, as a recompenseof this new service he had done him. 

While the faithful Don Juan was busy with painful reflections that threwtheir shadows upon his bald forehead, the alcalde approached andaddressed him in a voice so low as not to be heard by the others. 

"I have been a little sharp with you, Don Juan--I have not sufficientlytaken into account the grief, which you as a loyal servant must feelunder such an unexpected stroke. But tell me! independent of thechagrin which this affair has caused you, are you not also affected bysome fears about your own future? You are old--weak in consequence--andwithout resources?"

"It is just because I am old, and know that I have not long to live, that I am so little affected. My grief, however, " added he with an airof pride, "is pure and free from all selfishness. The generosity ofCount de Mediana has left me enough to pass the remainder of my days intranquillity. But I should pass them all the more happily if I couldonly see avenged the lady of my old master. "

"I approve of your sentiments, Senor Don Juan! you are doubly estimableon account of your sorrow, and as to your _savings_--Notary! SenorCagatinta!" cried the alcalde, suddenly raising his voice so as to beheard by all present, "Make out a _proces verbal_--that the Senor DonJuan Dios Canelo, here present, will become prosecutor in this case. Itcannot be doubted that a crime has been committed; and it is a duty weowe to ourselves as well as to this respectable man, to seek out andpunish the authors of it. "

"But, senor alcalde!" interposed the steward, perfectly stupefied withthis unexpected declaration, "I did not say--I have no intention tobecome _prosecutor_. "

"Take care, old man!" cried Don Ramon, in a solemn tone; "if you denywhat you have already confided to me, grievous charges may be broughtagainst you. As friend Cagatinta has just this minute observed to me, the ladder by which you scaled the balcony might prove sinister designs. But I know you are incapable of such. Rest contented, then, at beingthe accuser in place of the accused. Come, gentlemen! our duty calls usoutside. Perhaps underneath the balcony we may find some traces of thismost mysterious matter. "

So saying, the alcalde left the chamber, followed by the crowd. 

Poor Don Juan found himself thus unexpectedly between two horns of adilemma, the result in either case being the same--that is, thespoliation of the little _pecadillo_ he had put away against old age. He shook his head, and with a sublime resignation accepted the voice ofiniquity for that of God--consoling himself with the reflection, thatthis last sacrifice might be of some service to the family whose breadhe had so long eaten. 

No trace was found under the balcony. As already stated the waves musthave obliterated any footmarks or other vestiges that may have beenleft. 

It was believed for a while that an important capture had been made, inthe person of a man found lying in a crevice among the rocks. Thisproved to be Pepe the Sleeper. Suddenly aroused, the coast-guard wasasked if he had seen or heard anything? No, was the reply, nothing. But Pepe remembered his full pockets; and fearing that the alcalde mighttake a fancy to search him, saw that some _ruse_ was necessary to put anend to the scene. This he succeeded in doing, by begging the alcaldefor a _real_ to buy bread with!

What was to be done with this droll fellow? The alcalde felt noinclination to question him farther, but left him to go to sleep againand sleep as long as he pleased. 

Any further investigation appeared to Don Ramon to be useless--at leastuntil some order might be received from higher quarters--besides itwould be necessary to graduate the expenses of justice to the means ofthe prosecutor; and with this reflection, the alcalde went home to hisbreakfast. 

In the evening of this eventful day for the village of Elanchovi--whenthe twilight had fallen upon the water--two persons might have been seenwandering along the beach, but evidently desirous of shunning oneanother. Both appeared in grief, though their sorrows sprang from avery different cause. 

One was a poor old steward, who, while heaving a sigh at the thoughtthat his worldly store was about to be absorbed in the inexorable gulfof justice, at the same time searched for some trace of his lostmistress, praying for her and her child, and calling upon God to takethem under his protection. 

The other pensive wanderer was Cagatinta, of whom the alcalde had againtaken the advantage. Profiting by the confidence of the scribe, DonRamon had induced the latter to commit his oath to stamped paper; andthen instead of the liver-coloured breeches had offered him an old hatin remuneration. This Cagatinta had indignantly refused. 

He was now lamenting his vanished dreams of ambition, his sillyconfidence, and the immorality of false oaths--_not paid for_. Nevertheless, he was meditating whether it would not be more prudent toaccept the old hat in lieu of the liver-coloured breeches, alas! so wellearned!

CHAPTER FIVE. 

PEPE'S REVANCHE. 

When Pepe the Sleeper had made himself master of the secret of CaptainDespierto--which he had found of such profitable service--he was notaware that the captain had held back another. Nevertheless, thecoast-guard felt some kind of remorse of conscience--though he had asyet no idea of the terrible consequences that had resulted. His remorsewas simply that he had betrayed his post of sentinel; and he determinedthat he would make up for it by a more zealous performance of dutywhenever an opportunity should offer. To bring about this contingency, he went on the very next night, and requested to be once more placed onthe post of Ensenada. 

His wish was gratified; and while Don Lucas believed him asleep asusual, Pepe kept wide awake, as on the preceding night. 

We shall leave him at his post, while we recount what was taking placeoff the coast not far from the Ensenada. 

The night was as foggy as that which preceded it, when about the hour often o'clock a _coaster_ was observed gliding in towards the cliffs, andentering among a labyrinth of rocks that lay near the mouth of the bay. 

This vessel appeared well guided and well _sailed_. The shape of herhull, her rigging, her sails, denoted her to be a ship-of-war, or at theleast a privateer. 

The boldness with which she manoeuvred, in the middle of the darkness, told that her pilot must be some one well acquainted with this dangerouscoast; and also that her commander had an understanding with some peopleon the shore. 

The sea dashed with fury against both sides of the rocky strait, throughwhich the coaster was making her way, but still she glided safely on. The strait once cleared, a large bay opened before her, in which the seawas more calm, and rippled gently up against a beach of sand and pebble. 

The coaster at length succeeded in gaining this bay; and then by amanoeuvre directed by the officer of the watch she hove-to with acelerity that denoted a numerous crew. 

Two boats were let down upon the water, and, being instantly filled withmen, were rowed off in the direction of the upper end of the bay, wheresome houses, which could be distinguished by their whiteness, stoodscattered along the beach. 

To end the mystery, let us say that the little coaster was a Frenchvessel--half-privateer half-smuggler--and had entered the bay with adouble design--the disposing of merchandise and the procuring ofprovisions, of which the crew began to stand in need. Further we shalladd, that the pilot was a skilful fisherman of Elanchovi, furnished byDon Lucas Despierto, captain of the coast-guard!

The officer of the watch silently walked the deck--now listening to thewaves surging against the sides of the little vessel--now stooping amoment over the light of the binnacle--anon watching the sails thatnapped loosely upon the yards, now turned contrary to the direction ofthe wind. 

An hour had been passed in this manner, when a brisk fusillade was heardfrom several points on the shore. Other reports of musketry appeared torespond and shortly after the two boats came hastening back to thecoaster. 

It was Pepe who had caused all this; Pepe, who, to the great chagrin ofhis captain, had given warning to the coast-guards. He had been toolate, notwithstanding his zeal, for the boats came back laden with sheepand other provisions of every soft. 

The last of the men who climbed over the gangway--just as the boats werebeing hoisted up--was a sailor of gigantic height, of colossalproportions, and Herculean vigour. He was a Canadian by birth. Hecarried in his arms a young child that was cold and motionless, as ifdead. A slight trembling in its limbs, however, proclaimed that therewas still life in it. 

"What the deuce have you got there, Bois-Rose?" demanded the officer ofthe watch. 

"With your leave, lieutenant, it's a young child that I found in a boatadrift, half dead with hunger and cold. A woman, quite dead, and bathedin her own blood, still held it in her arms. I had all the trouble inthe world to get the boat away from the place where I found it, forthose dogs of Spaniards espied it, and took it for one of ours. Therewas a terrible devil of a coast-guard kept all the while firing at mewith as much obstinacy as awkwardness. I should have silenced him witha single shot, had I not been hindered in looking after this poor littlecreature. But if ever I return--ah!"

"And what do you intend to do with the child?"

"Take care of it, lieutenant, until peace be proclaimed, then returnhere and find out who it belongs to. "

Unfortunately the only knowledge he was able to obtain about the infantwas its name, Fabian, and that the woman who had been assassinated wasits mother. 

Two years passed during which the French privateer did not return to thecoast of Spain. The tenderness of the sailor towards the child he hadpicked up--which was no other than the young Count Fabian de Mediana--did not cease for an instant, but seemed rather to increase with time. It was a singular and touching spectacle to witness the care, almostmotherly, which this rude nurse lavished upon the child, and theconstant _ruses_ to which he had recourse to procure a supplement to hisrations for its nourishment. The sailor had to fight for his ownliving; but he often indulged in dreams that some day a rich prize wouldbe captured, his share of which would enable him to take better care ofhis adopted son. Unfortunately he did not take into his calculationsthe perilous hazards of the life he was leading. 

One morning the privateer was compelled to run from an English brig ofwar of nearly twice her force; and although a swift sailer, the Frenchvessel soon found that she could not escape from her pursuer. Shedisdained to refuse the combat, and the two vessels commencedcannonading each other. 

For several hours a sanguinary conflict was kept up, when the Canadiansailor, dashed with blood, and blackened with powder, ran towards thechild and lifting it in his arms, carried it to the gangway. There, inthe midst of the tumult, with blood running over the decks, amidst theconfusion of cries and the crash of falling masts, he wished to engraveon the child's memory the circumstance of a separation, of which he hada strong presentiment. In this moment, which should leave even upon thememory of an infant, a souvenir that would never be effaced, he calledout to the child, while shielding it with his huge body, "Kneel, myson!"

The child knelt, trembling with affright. 

"You see what is going on?"

"I am afraid, " murmured Fabian, "the blood--the noise--" and saying thishe hid himself in the arms of his protector. 

"It is well, " replied the Canadian, in a solemn tone. "Never forget, then, that in this moment, a sailor, a man who loved you as his ownlife, said to you--_kneel and pray for your mother_!"

He was not permitted to finish the speech. At that moment a bulletstruck him and his blood spouting over the child, caused it to utter alamentable cry. The Canadian had just strength left to press the boy tohis breast, and to add some words; but in so low a tone that Fabiancould only comprehend a single phrase. It was the continuation of whathe had been saying--"_Your mother_--_whom I found_--_dead beside you_. "

With this speech ended the consciousness of the sailor. He was notdead, however; his wound did not prove fatal. 

When he came to his senses again he found himself in the fetid hold of aship. A terrible thirst devoured him. He called out in a feeble voice, but no one answered him. He perceived that he was a prisoner, and hewept for the loss of his liberty, but still more for that of the adoptedson that Providence had given him. 

What became of Fabian? That the history of the "Wood-Rangers" will tellus; but before crossing from the prologue of our drama--before crossingfrom Europe to America--a few events connected with the tragedy ofElanchovi remain to be told. 

It was several days after the disappearance of the Countess, beforeanything was known of her fate. Then some fishermen found the abandonedboat driven up among the rocks and still containing the body of theunfortunate lady. This was some light thrown upon the horrid mystery;but the cause of the assassination long remained unknown, and the authorof it long unpunished. 

The old steward tied black crape upon the vanes of the chateau, anderected a wooden cross on the spot where the body of his belovedmistress had been found; but, as everything in this human world soonwears out, the sea-breeze had not browned the black crape, nor the wavesturned green the wood of the cross, before the tragic event ceased tocause the slightest emotion in the village--ay, even ceased to be talkedof. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

SONORA. 

Sonora, naturally one of the richest provinces of Mexico, is also one ofthe least known. Vast tracts in this State have never been explored;and others have been seen only by the passing traveller. Nevertheless, Nature has been especially bountiful to this remote territory. In someparts of it the soil, scarce scratched by the plough, will yield twocrops in the year; while in other places gold is scattered over thesurface, or mixed with the sands, in such quantity as to rival the_placers_ of California. 

It is true that these advantages are, to some extent neutralised bycertain inconveniences. Vast deserts extend between the tracts offertile soil, which render travelling from one to the other bothdifficult and dangerous; and, in many parts, of the province the savageaborigines of the country are still masters of the ground. This isespecially the case in those districts where the gold is found in_placers_. 

Those placers are not to be approached by white men, unless when instrong force. The Indians repel all such advances with warlike fury. Not that they care to protect the gold--of whose value they have beenhitherto ignorant--but simply from their hereditary hatred of the whiterace. Nevertheless, attempts are frequently made to reach the desiredgold fields. Some that result in complete failure, and some that aremore or less successful. 

The natural riches of Sonora have given rise to very considerablefortunes, and not a few very large ones, of which the origin was thefinding a "nugget" of virgin gold; while others again had for theirbasis the cultivation of the rich crops which the fertile soil of Sonoracan produce. 

There is a class of persons in Sonora, who follow no other business thansearching for gold _placers_ or silver mines, and whose only knowledgeconsists of a little practical acquaintance with metallurgy. These menare called _gambusinos_. From time to time they make long excursionsinto the uninhabited portions of the State; where, under greatprivations, and exposed to a thousand dangers, they hastily and verysuperficially work some vein of silver, or wash the auriferous sands ofsome desert-stream, until, tracked and pursued by the Indians, they arecompelled to return to their villages. Here they find an audiencedelighted to listen to their adventures, and to believe the exaggeratedaccounts which they are certain to give of marvellous treasures lyingupon the surface of, the ground, but not to be approached on account ofsome great danger, Indian or otherwise, by which they are guarded. 

These _gambusinos_ are to mining industry, what the backwoodsmen are toagriculture and commerce. They are its pioneers. Avarice stimulated bytheir wonderful stories, and often too by the sight of real treasurebrought in from the desert--for the expeditions of the _gambusinos_ donot always prove failures--avarice thus tempted, is ready to listen tothe voice of some adventurous leader, who preaches a crusade of conquestand exploration. In Sonora, as elsewhere, there are always an abundanceof idle men to form the material of an expedition--the sons of ruinedfamilies--men who dislike hard work, or indeed any work--and others whohave somehow got outside the pale of justice. These join the leader andan expedition is organised. 

In general, however, enterprises of this kind are too lightly enteredupon, as well as too loosely conducted; and the usual consequence is, that before accomplishing its object the band falls to pieces; manybecome victims to hunger, thirst, or Indian hostility; and of those whowent forth only a few individuals return to tell the tale of sufferingand disaster. 

This example will, for a while, damp the ardour for such pursuits. Butthe disaster is soon forgotten; fresh stories of the _gambusinos_produce new dreams of wealth; and another band of adventurers is easilycollected. 

At the time of which I am writing--that is, in 1830--just twenty-twoyears after the tragedy of Elanchovi, one of these expeditions was beingorganised at Arispe--then the capital of the State of Sonora. The manwho was to be the leader of the expedition was not a native of Mexico, but a stranger. He was a Spaniard who had arrived in Sonora but twomonths before, and who was known by the name, Don Estevan de Arechiza. 

No one in Arispe remembered ever to have seen him; and yet he appearedto have been in the country before this time. His knowledge of itstopography, as well as its affairs and political personages, was sopositive and complete, as to make it evident that Sonora was no strangerto him; and the plan of his expedition appeared to have been conceivedand arranged beforehand--even previous to his arrival from Europe. 

Beyond doubt, Don Estevan was master of considerable resources. He hadhis train of paid followers, kept open house, made large bets at the_monte_ tables, lent money to friends without appearing to care whetherit should ever be returned, and played "grand Seigneur" to perfection. 

No one knew from what source he drew the means to carry on such a "war. "

Now and then he was known to absent himself from Arispe for a week orten days at a time. He was absent on some journey; but no one couldtell to what part of the country these journeys were made--for hiswell-trained servants never said a word about the movements of theirmaster. 

Whoever he might be, his courteous manner _a l'Espagnol_, hisgenerosity, and his fine free table, soon gave him a powerful influencein the social world of Arispe; and by this influence he was noworganising an expedition, to penetrate to a part of the country which itwas supposed no white man had ever yet visited. 

As Don Estevan almost always lost at play, and as he also neglected toreclaim the sums of money which he so liberally lent to hisacquaintances, it began to be conjectured that he possessed not far fromArispe some rich _placer_ of gold from which he drew his resources. Theperiodical journeys which he made gave colour to this conjecture. 

It was also suspected that he knew of some _placer_--still more rich--inthe country into which he was about to lead his expedition. What truththere was in the suspicion we shall presently see. 

It will easily be understood that with such a reputation, Don Estevanwould have very little difficulty in collecting his band of adventurers. Indeed it was said, that already more than fifty determined men fromall parts of Sonora had assembled at the _Presidio of Tubac_ on theIndian frontier--the place appointed for the rendezvous of theexpedition. It was further affirmed that in a few days Don Estevanhimself would leave Arispe to place himself at their head. 

This rumour, hitherto only conjecture, proved to be correct; for at oneof the dinners given by the hospitable Spaniard, he announced to hisguests that in three days he intended to start for Tubac. 

During the progress of this same dinner, a messenger was introduced intothe dining-room, who handed to Don Estevan a letter, an answer to whichhe awaited. 

The Spaniard, begging of his guests to excuse him for a moment, brokethe seal and read the letter. 

As there was a certain mystery about the habits of their convivial host, the guests were silent for a while--all watching his movements and theplay of his features; but the impassible countenance of Don Estevan didnot betray a single emotion that was passing his mind, even to the mostacute observer around the table. In truth he was a man who well knewhow to dissemble his thoughts, and perhaps on that very occasion, morethan any other, he required all his self-command. 

"It is well, " he said, calmly addressing himself to the messenger. "Take my answer to him who sent you, that I will be punctual to therendezvous in three days from the present. "

With this answer the messenger took his departure. Don Estevan, turningto his guests, again apologised for his impoliteness; and the dinner foran instant suspended once more progressed with renewed activity. 

Nevertheless the Spaniard appeared more thoughtful than before; and hisguests did not doubt but that he had received some news of more thanordinary interest. 

We shall leave them to their conjectures, and precede Don Estevan to themysterious rendezvous which had been given him, and the scene of whichwas to be a small village lying upon the route to the Presidio of Tubac. 

The whole country between Arispe and the Presidio in question may besaid to be almost uninhabited. Along the route only mean hovels areencountered, with here and there a _hacienda_ of greater pretensions. These houses are rarely solitary, but collected in groups at longdistances apart. Usually a day's journey lies between them, and, consequently, they are the stopping-places for travellers, who may be ontheir way towards the frontier. But the travellers are few, and theinhabitants of these miserable hovels pass the greater part of theirlives in the middle of a profound solitude. A little patch of Indiancorn which they cultivate, --a few head of cattle, which, fed upon theperfumed pastures of the plains, produce beef of an exquisite flavour, --a sky always clear, --and, above all, a wonderful sobriety of living, --enable these dwellers of the desert steppes of Sonora to live, if not ina state of luxury, at least free from all fear of want. What desiresneed trouble a man who sees a blue sky always over his head, and whofinds in the smoke of a cigarette of his own making, a resource againstall the cravings of hunger?

At one part of the year, however, these villages of hovels areuninhabited--altogether abandoned by their occupants. This is the _dryseason_, during the greater portion of which the cisterns that supplythe villages with water become dried up. The cisterns are fed by therains of heaven, and no other water than this can be found throughoutmost tracts of the country. When these give out, the settlements haveto be abandoned, and remain until the return of the periodical rains. 

In a morning of the year 1830, at the distance of about three days'journey from Arispe, a man was seated, or rather half reclining, uponhis _serape_ in front of a rude hovel. A few other huts of a similarcharacter were near, scattered here and there over the ground. It wasevident, from the profound silence that reigned among these dwellings, and the absence of human forms, or implements of household use, that the_rancheria_ was abandoned by its half nomad population. Such in realitywas the fact, for it was now the very height of the dry season. Two orthree roads branched out from this miserable group of huts, leading offinto a thick forest which surrounded it on all sides. They were ratherpaths than roads, for the tracks which they followed were scarce clearedof the timber that once grew upon them. At the point of junction ofthese roads the individual alluded to had placed himself; and hisattitude of perfect ease told that he was under no apprehension from theprofound and awe-inspiring loneliness of the place. The croak of theravens flitting from tree to tree hoarsely uttered in their flight; thecry of the _chaculucas_ as they welcomed the rising sun, were the onlysounds that broke the stillness of the scene. 

Presently the white fog of the night began to rise upward and disappearunder the strength of the sunbeams. Only a few flakes of it still hungover the tops of the mezquite and iron-wood trees that grew thicklyaround the huts. 

Near where the man lay, there might be seen the remains of a large fire. It had been kindled no doubt to protect him from the chill dews of thenight; and it now served him to prepare his breakfast. Some small cakesof wheaten meal, with few pieces of _tasajo_, were already placed uponthe red embers of the fire; but notwithstanding that these would madebut a meagre repast the man appeared eagerly to await the enjoyment ofit. 

Near at hand, with a frugality equal to that of his master, a horse wasbrowsing upon the tufts of dry yellow grass, that grew thinly over theground. This horse, with a saddle and bridle lying near, proved thesolitary individual to be a traveller. Contrary to the usual custom ofthe country, the horse had no _lazo_, or fastening of any kind upon him;but was free to wander where he pleased. 

The costume of the traveller consisted in a sort of jacket or vest ofbrick-coloured leather, without buttons or any opening in front, butdrawn over the head after the manner of a shirt. Wide pantaloons of thesame material, open from the knee downwards, and fastened at the waistby a scarf of red China crape. Under the pantaloons, and covering thecalf of the leg nearly up to the knee, could be seen the _botas_ ofstrong stamped leather, in one of which was stuck a long knife with ahorn hilt--thus ready to the hand whether the owner was seated, standing, or on horseback. A large felt hat, banded with a _toquilla_of Venetian pearls, completed a costume sufficiently picturesque, thevivid colours of which were in harmony with that of the _serape_ onwhich the traveller was reclining. This costume denoted one of thosemen accustomed to gallop among the thorny jungles that cover the desertsteppes of North Mexico; and who in their expeditions, whether againstIndian enemies, or for whatever purpose, sleep with indifference underthe shadow of a tree, or the open heaven itself, --in the forest, or uponthe naked plain. 

There was in the features of this traveller a singular mixture of brutalferocity and careless good-humour. A crooked nose, with thick bushyeyebrows, and black eyes that sparkled from time to time with amalicious fire, gave to his countenance a sinister aspect, and beliedthe expression of his mouth and lips, that presented rather a pleasantand smiling contour. But the man's features, when viewed as a whole, could not fail to inspire a certain feeling of repulsiveness mingledwith fear. A short carbine that lay by his side, together with the longknife, whose haft protruded above the top of his boots, did not in anyway tame down the ferocious aspect of his face. On the contrary theyproclaimed him one whom it would not be desirable to have for acompanion in the desert. 

Despite the _nonchalance_ of his attitude, it was evident that heawaited some one; but as everything in these countries is on a largescale, so also is the virtue of patience. This outlaw--for everythingabout him signified that he was one of some sort--this outlaw, we say, having made three days' journey before arriving upon the ground where henow was, thought nothing of a few hours, less or more, spent inexpectation. In the desert, he who has travelled a hundred leagues, will consider it a mere bagatelle to wait for a hundred hours: unlike tohim who keeps an appointment in the midst of a great city, where a delayof a quarter of an hour will be endured with feverish impatience. 

So it was with our solitary traveller; and when the hoof-strokes of ahorse were heard at some distance off in the forest, he did nothing morethan to make a slight change in the attitude in which he had beenreclining; while his steed, also hearing the same sounds, tossed up hishead and neighed joyously. The hoof-strokes each moment were heard moredistinctly; and it was evident that a horseman was galloping rapidly inthe direction of the huts. After a little the strokes became moregentle, and the gallop appeared to be changed to a walk. The rider wasapproaching with caution. 

A few seconds intervened, and then upon one of the roads--that leadingto Arispe--the horseman was perceived coming on at a slow and cautiouspace. 

On perceiving the traveller, still half reclining upon his _serape_, thehorseman drew his rein still tighter and halted, and the two menremained for some seconds regarding each other with a fixed andinterrogative glance. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

TWO HONEST GENTLEMEN. 

The new-comer was a tall man with a dark complexion, and thick blackbeard, costumed very similarly to the other--in vest and pantaloons ofbrick-red leather, felt sombrero, sash, and boots. He was mounted upona strong active horse. 

It may appear strange that during the period of mutual examination, eachof these two men made a very similar reflection about the other; but itwas scarcely strange either, considering that both presented an equallysuspicious aspect. 

"_Carramba_!" muttered the horseman as he eyed the man on the _serape_, "if I wasn't sure that he is the gentleman I have been sent to meet, Ishould believe that I had chanced upon a very unlucky acquaintance. "

At the same instant he upon the ground said to himself--

"_Por Dios_! if that infernal Seven of Spades had left any dollars in mypurse, I should have considered them in danger of being taken out of itjust now. "

Despite the nature of his reflection, the horseman did not hesitate anylonger, but spurring his horse forward to the edge of the fire, liftedhis hat courteously from his head, and saluted him on the ground, at thesame time saying interrogatively:--

"No doubt it is the Senor Don Pedro Cuchillo I have the honour toaddress?"

"The same, cavallero!" replied the other, rising to his feet, andreturning the salute with no less politeness than it had been given. 

"Cavallero! I have been sent forward to meet you, and announce to youthe approach of the Senor Arechiza, who at this time cannot be manyleagues distant. My name is Manuel Baraja, your very humble servant. "

"Your honour will dismount?"

The horseman did not wait for the invitation to be repeated, but at onceflung himself from the saddle. After unbuckling his enormous spurs, hespeedily unsaddled his horse, fastened a long lazo around his neck, andthen giving him a smart cut with the short whip which he carried, despatched the animal without further ceremony to share the meagreprovender of his companion. 

At this movement the _tasajo_, beginning to sputter over the coals, gaveout an odour that resembled the smell of a dying lamp. Notwithstandingthis, Baraja cast towards it a look of longing. 

"It appears to me Senor Cuchillo, " said he, "that you are well providedhere. Carramba!--_tortillas_, of wheaten meal! _tasajo_!--it is arepast for a prince!"

"Oh, yes, " replied Cuchillo, with a certain air of foppishness, "I treatmyself well. It makes me happy to know that the dish is to your liking;I beg to assure you, it is quite at your service. "

"You are very good, and I accept your offer without ceremony. Themorning air has sharpened my appetite. "

And saying this, Baraja proceeded to the mastication of the tassajo andtortillas. After being thus engaged for some time, he once moreaddressed himself to his host. 

"Dare I tell you, Senor Cuchillo, the favourable impression I had of youat first sight?"

"Oh! you shock my modesty, senor. I would rather state the good opinionyour first appearance gave me of _you_!"

The two new friends here exchanged a salute, full of affability, andthen continued to eat, Baraja harpooning upon the point of his longknife another piece of meat out of the ashes. 

"If it please you, Senor Baraja, " said Cuchillo, "we may talk over ourbusiness while we are eating. You will find me a host _sansceremonie_. "

"Just what pleases me. "

"Don Estevan, then, has received the message which I sent him?"

"He has, but what that message was is only known to you and him. "

"No doubt of that, " muttered Cuchillo to himself. 

"The Senor Arechiza, " continued the _envoy_, "started for Tubac shortlyafter receiving your letter. It was my duty to accompany him, but heordered me to proceed in advance of him with these commands: `In thelittle village of Huerfano you will find a man, by name Cuchillo; youshall say to him that the proposal he makes to me deserves seriousattention; and that since the place he has designated as a rendezvous ison the way to Tubac, I will see him on my journey. ' This instructionwas given by Don Estevan an hour or so before his departure, butalthough I have ridden a little faster to execute his orders, he cannotbe far behind me. "

"Good! Senor Baraja, good!" exclaimed Cuchillo, evidently pleased withthe communication just made, "and if the business which I have with DonEstevan be satisfactorily concluded--which I am in hopes it will be--youare likely to have me for a comrade in this distant expedition. But, "continued he, suddenly changing the subject, "you will, no doubt, beastonished that I have given Don Estevan a rendezvous in such a singularplace as this?"

"No, " coolly replied Baraja, "you may have reasons for being partial tosolitude. Who does not love it at times?"

A most gracious smile playing upon the countenance of Cuchillo, denotedthat his new acquaintance had correctly divined the truth. 

"Precisely, " he replied, "the ill-behaviour of a friend towards me, andthe malevolent hostility of the alcalde of Arispe have caused me to seekthis tranquil retreat. That is just why I have established myheadquarters in an abandoned village, where there is not a soul to keepcompany with. "

"Senor Don Pedro, " replied Baraja, "I have already formed too good anopinion of you not to believe that the fault is entirely upon the sideof the alcalde, and especially on the part of your friend. "

"I thank you, Senor Baraja, for you good opinion, " returned Cuchillo, atthe same time taking from the cinders a piece of the meat, half burnt, half raw, and munching it down with the most perfect indifference; "Ithank you sincerely, and when I tell you the circumstances you may judgefor yourself. "

"I shall be glad to hear them, " said the other, easing himself down intoa horizontal position; "after a good repast, there is nothing I so muchenjoy as a good story. "

After saying this, and lighting his cigarette, Baraja turned upon thebroad of his back, and with his eyes fixed upon the blue sky, appearedto enjoy a perfect beatitude. 

"The story is neither long nor interesting, " responded Cuchillo; "whathappened to me might happen to all the world. I was engaged with thisfriend in a quiet game of cards, when he pretended that I had _tricked_him. The affair came to words--"

Here the narrator paused for an instant, to take a drink from hisleathern bottle, and then continued--

"My friend had the indelicacy to permit himself to drop down dead in mypresence. "

"What at your words?"

"No, with the stab of a knife which I gave him, " coolly replied theoutlaw. 

"Ah! no doubt your friend was in the wrong, and you received greatprovocation?"

"The alcalde did not think so. He pestered me in the most absurdmanner. I could have forgiven the bitterness of his persecution of me, had it not been that I was myself bitterly roused at the ill-behaviourof my friend, whom up to that time I had highly esteemed. "

"Ah! one has always to suffer from one's friends, " rejoined Baraja, sending up a puff of smoke from his corn-husk cigarette. 

"Well--one thing, " said Cuchillo, "the result of it all is that I havemade a vow never to play another card; for the cards, as you see, werethe original cause of this ugly affair. "

"A good resolution, " said Baraja, "and just such as I have come tomyself. I have promised never to touch another card; they have cost mea fortune--in fact, altogether ruined me. "

"Ruined you? you have been rich then?"

"Alas! I had a splendid estate--a _hacienda de ganados_ (cattle farm)with a numerous flock upon it. I had a lawyer for my _intendant_, whotook care of the estate while I spent my time in town. But when I cameto settle accounts with this fellow I found I had let them run too long. I discovered that half my estate belonged to him!"

"What did you do then?"

"The only thing I could do, " answered Baraja, with the air of acavalier, "was to stake my remaining half against his on a game, and letthe winner take the whole. "

"Did he accept this proposal?"

"After a fashion. "

"What fashion?"

"Why, you see I am too timid when I play in presence of company, andcertain to lose. I prefer, therefore, to play in the open air, and insome quiet corner of the woods. There I feel more at my ease; and if Ishould lose--considering that it was my whole fortune that was atstake--I should not expose my chagrin to the whole world. These werethe considerations that prompted me to propose the conditions of ourplaying alone. "

"And did the lawyer agree to your conditions?"

"Not a bit of it. "

"What a droll fellow he must have been!"

"He would only play in the presence of witnesses. "

"And you were forced to his terms?"

"To my great regret, I was. "

"And of course you lost--being so nervous in presence of company?"

"I lost the second half of my fortune as I had done the first. The onlything I kept back was the horse you see, and even him my ex-intendantinsisted upon having as part of the bet. To-day I have no other hopethan to make my fortune in this Tubac expedition, and if I should do soI may get back, and settle accounts with the knave. After that game, however, I swore I should never play another card; and, carramba! Ihave kept my oath. "

"How long since this happened?"

"Five days. "

"The devil!--You deserve credit for keeping your word. "

The two adventurers after having exchanged these confidences, began totalk over their hopes founded on the approaching expedition--of themarvellous sights that they would be likely to see--but more especiallyof the dangers that might have to be encountered. 

"Bah!" said Baraja, speaking of these; "better to die than live wearinga coat out at elbows. "

Cuchillo was of the same opinion. 

Meanwhile the sun was growing hotter and hotter. A burning wind beganto blow through the trees, and the horses of the two travellers, suffering from thirst, uttered their plaintive neighings. The menthemselves sought out the thickest shade to protect them from the fervidrays of the sun, and for a while both observed a complete silence. 

Baraja was the first to resume the conversation. 

"You may laugh at me, Senor Cuchillo, " said he, fanning himself with hisfelt hat, "but to say the truth the time appears very long to me when Iam not playing. "

"The same with myself, " hastily responded Cuchillo. 

"What do you say to our staking, on word of honour, a little of thatgold we are going to find?"

"Just what I was thinking myself, but I daren't propose it to you;--I amquite agreeable. "

Without further parley each of the two thrust a hand into his pocket, and drew forth a pack of cards--with which, notwithstanding the oaththey had taken, both were provided. 

The play was about to commence, when the sound of a bell, and theclattering of hoofs at a distance, announced the approach, mostprobably, of the important personage whom Cuchillo awaited. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

THE SENATOR TRAGADUROS. 

The two players suspended operations, and turned their faces in thedirection whence came the sounds. 

At some distance along the road, a cloud of dust suddenly rising, indicated the approach of a troop of horses. 

They were without riders. One only was mounted; and that was ridden bythe driver of the troop. In short, it was a _remuda_--such as richtravellers in the north of Mexico usually take along with them for aremount. These horses, on account of the half-wild life they lead uponthe vast plains where they are pastured, after a gallop of twentyleagues without carrying a rider, are almost as fresh as if just takenout of the stable. On long routes, each is saddled and mounted atregular intervals; and in this way a journey is performed almost asrapidly as by a mail express, with relays already established. 

According to usual custom, a _bell-mare_ preceded this drove, whichappeared to consist of about thirty horses. It was this bell that hadfirst attracted the attention of the players. 

When within a hundred yards or so of the huts, the driver of the_remuda_ galloped to the front, and catching the bell-mare, brought herto a stop. The other horses halted on the instant. 

Shortly after, five cavaliers appeared through the dust, riding in thedirection of the huts. Two were in advance of the other three, who, following at a little distance, were acting as attendants or servants. 

The most distinguished looking of the two who rode in advance, was a manof somewhat over medium height. He appeared to have passed the age offorty. A greyish-coloured _sombrero_, with broad brim, screened hisface from the fervent sunbeams. He was habited in a pelisse, or_dolman_, of dark blue, richly laced with gold, and almost concealedunder a large white kerchief, embroidered with sky-blue silk, and knownin Mexico as _pano de sol_. Under the fiery atmosphere, the whitecolour of this species of scarf, like the _burnous_ of the Arabs, servesto moderate the rays of the sun, and for this purpose was it worn by thecavalier in question. Upon his feet were boots of yellow Cordovanleather, and over these, large spurs, the straps of which were stitchedwith gold and silver wire. These spurs, with their huge five-pointedrowels, and little bells, gave out a silvery clinking that kept time tothe march of the horse--sounds most agreeable to the ear of the Mexican_cavallero_. 

A _mango_, richly slashed with gold lace, hung over the pommel of thesaddle in front of the horseman, half covering with its folds a pair ofwide pantaloons, garnished throughout their whole length with buttons offiligree gold. In fine, the saddle, embroidered like the straps of thespurs, completed a costume that, in the eyes of a European, would recallthe souvenirs of the middle ages. For all that, the horseman inquestion did not require a rich dress to give him an air of distinction. There was that in his bearing and physiognomy that denoted a manaccustomed to command and perfectly _au fait_ to the world. 

His companion, much younger, was dressed with far more pretension: buthis insignificant figure, though not wanting in a certain degree ofelegance, was far from having the aristocratic appearance of him withthe embroidered kerchief. 

The three servants that followed--with faces blackened by dust and sun, and half savage figures--carried long lances adorned with scarletpennons, and _lazos_ hung coiled from the pommels of their saddles. These strange attendants gave to the group that singular appearancepeculiar to a cavalcade of Mexican travellers. Several mules, packladen, and carrying enormous valises, followed in the rear. Thesevalises contained provisions and the _menage_ necessary for a halt. 

On seeing Cuchillo and Baraja, the foremost of the two cavaliers halted, and the troop followed his example. 

"'Tis the Senor Don Estevan, " said Baraja, in a subdued voice. "This isthe man, senor, " he continued, presenting Cuchillo to the cavalier withthe _pano de sol_. 

Don Estevan--for it was he--fixed upon Cuchillo a piercing glance, thatappeared to penetrate to the bottom of his soul, at the same time thelook denoted a slight expression of surprise. 

"I have the honour to kiss the hands of your excellency, " said Cuchillo. "As you see, it is I who--"

But in spite of his habitual assurance, the outlaw paused, trembling asvague souvenirs began to shape themselves in his memory; for these twomen had met before, though not for a very long time. 

"Eh! if I don't deceive myself, " interrupted the Spaniard, in anironical tone, "the Senor Cuchillo and I are old acquaintances--thoughformerly I knew him by a different name?"

"So too your excellency, who was then called--"

Arechiza frowned till the hairs of his black moustache seemed to standon end. The outlaw did not finish his speech. He saw that it was notthe time to tell what he knew; but this species of complicity appearedto restore him to his wonted assurance. 

Cuchillo was, in truth, one of those gentlemen who have the ill luck togive to whatever name they bear a prompt celebrity; and for this reasonhe had changed his more than once. 

"Senor Senator, " said Arechiza, turning toward his _compagnon devoyage_, "this place does not appear very suitable for our noon siesta?"

"The Senor Tragaduros y Despilfarro, will find the shade of one of thesecottages more agreeable, " interposed Cuchillo, who knew the senator ofArispe. He knew, moreover, that the latter had attached himself to thefortunes of Don Estevan, in default of better cause: and in hopes ofrepairing his own fortune, long since dissipated. 

Despite the low state of his finances, however, the Senator had not theless a real influence in the congress of Sonora; and it was thisinfluence which Don Estevan intended using to his own advantage. Hencethe companionship that now existed between them. 

"I agree with all my heart to your proposal, " answered Tragaduros, "themore so that we have now been nearly five hours in the saddle. "

Two of the servants dismounting, took their masters' horses by thebridle, while the other two looked after the _cargas_ of the mules. Thecamp-beds were taken from the pack saddles, and carried into two of thehouses that appeared the most spacious and proper. 

We shall leave the Senator reclining upon his mattress, to enjoy thatprofound slumber which is the portion of just men and travellers; whilewe accompany Don Estevan into the hut which he had chosen for himself, and which stood at some distance from that occupied by the legislator. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

THE COMPACT. 

After having followed Don Estevan, at the invitation of the latter, inside the hovel, Cuchillo closed behind him the wattle of bamboos thatserved as a door. He did this with great care--as if he feared that theleast noise should be heard without--and then he stood waiting for theSpaniard to initiate the conversation. 

The latter had seated himself on the side of his camp-bedstead, andCuchillo also sat down, using for his seat the skull of a bullock, --which chanced to be in the house. It is the ordinary stool of this partof the country, where the luxury of chairs is still unknown--at least inthe houses of the poor. 

"I suppose, " said Arechiza, breaking silence, "that you have a thousandreasons why I should know you by no other than your present name. I, with motives very different from yours, no doubt, desire to be herenothing more than _Don Estevan Arechiza_. Now! Senor Cuchillo, "continued the speaker with a certain affectation of mockery; "let ushave this grand secret that is to make your fortune and mine!"

"A word first, Senor Don Estevan de Arechiza, " replied Cuchillo, in thesame tone; "one word, and then you shall have it. "

"I listen to you; but observe, sir, say nothing of the past--no moreperfidy. We are here in a country where there are _trees_, and you knowhow I punish traitors. "

At this allusion to some past event--no doubt some mysterious souvenir--the face of the outlaw became livid. 

"Yes, " replied he, "I remember that it is not your fault that I was nothung to a tree. It may be more prudent not to recall old wrongs--especially as you are no longer in a conquered country, but in one offorests--forests both sombre and dumb. "

There was in this response of the outlaw such an evident air of menace, that, joined with his character and sinister antecedents, it required afirm heart on the part of Don Estevan not to regret having recalled thesouvenir. With a cold smile he replied:

"Ha! another time I shall entrust the execution of a traitor in thehands of no human being. I shall perform that office myself, " continuedhe, fixing upon Cuchillo a glance which caused the latter to lower hishead. "As to your threats, reserve them for people of your own kind;and never forget, that between my breast and your dagger there is aninsurmountable barrier. "

"Who knows?" muttered Cuchillo, dissembling the anger which wasdevouring him. Then in a different tone, he continued: "But I am notraitor, Senor Don Estevan; and the proposal I am now about to make toyou is frank and loyal. "

"We shall see, then. "

"Know, then, Senor Arechiza, that for several years past I have followedthe profession of a _gambusino_, and have rambled over most of thiscountry in the exercise of my calling. I have seen a deposit of goldsuch as mortal eye perhaps never looked upon!"

"You have seen it, and not possessed yourself of it?"

"Do not mock me, Don Estevan; I am in earnest. I have seen a _placer_so rich that the man who gets it might for a whole year play the game ofhell with luck all the while against him, and not be impoverished! Sorich as to satisfy the most insatiable avarice; so rich, in fact, as tobuy a kingdom!"

At these words, which responded to some hopes and desires alreadyconceived, Don Estevan could not hinder himself from the manifestationof a certain emotion. 

"So rich, " continued the outlaw, in an exalted tone, "that I would nothesitate for one instant to give my soul to the devil in exchange forit. "

"The devil is not such a fool as to value so highly a soul which heknows he will get _gratis_. But how did _you_ discover this _placer_?"

"Thus, senor. There was a _gambusino_ called Marcos Arellanos, who wascelebrated throughout the whole province. It was he who discovered this_bonanza_ in company with another of the same calling as himself; butjust as they were about to gather some of the gold, they were attackedby the Apache Indians. The associate of Marcos Arellanos was killed, and he himself had to run a thousand risks before he succeeded in makinghis escape. 

"It was after he came home again that by chance I met him at Tubac. There he proposed to me to join him, and go back to the _placer_. Iaccepted his offer, and we started. We arrived safely at the _GoldenValley_, for by that name he called the place. Powers of Heaven!"exclaimed Cuchillo, "it only needed to see those blocks of gold shiningin the sun to bring before one's eyes a thousand dazzling visions!

"Alas! we were only permitted to feast our eyes. The savages were uponus. We were compelled to fly in our turn, and I alone escaped. PoorMarcos! he fell under the horrible war clubs; and I--I have sorelygrieved for him! Now, senor, this is the secret of the Golden Valleywhich I desire to sell to you. "

"To sell to me:--and who is to answer for your fidelity?"

"My own interest. I sell you the secret, but I do not intend toalienate my rights to the _placer_. I have vainly endeavoured to get upan expedition such as yours, for without a strong force it would be ofno use going there. It would be certain death to a party of only two orthree. With your band, however, it will be easy, and success would becertain. I only ask the tenth part of all the gold that may begathered, which I would deserve as guide of the expedition; and going asguide I will be at the same time a hostage for my good faith. "

"Is that what I am to understand; you estimate the price of your secretand services a tenth part of the whole?"

"That and two hundred dollars paid down to enable me to equip myself forthe expedition. "

"You are more reasonable than I expected, Cuchillo. Very well, then letit be so; the two hundred dollars you shall have, and I promise you thetenth part. "

"Agreed. "

"Agreed, and you have my word upon it. Now, answer me some questionswhich I wish to put. Is this Golden Valley in that part of the countrywhere I intended to have taken my expedition?"

"It is beyond the Presidio of Tubac; and since your men are to meetthere you will not need to make any change in the dispositions you havealready taken. "

"Good. And you have seen this Golden Valley you say with your owneyes?"

"I have seen it without the power of touching it. I have seen itgrinding my teeth as I looked upon it, like the damned in hell who get aglimpse of Paradise. "

As Cuchillo spoke, his countenance betrayed beyond doubt the anguish hefelt, at his cupidity having been balked. 

Arechiza knew too well how to read the human physiognomy to doubt thetruth of Cuchillo's report. Two hundred dollars were to him a merebagatelle; and taking an ebony case from his bed, small but heavy, hedrew from it a rouleau of gold pieces and handed them to the gambusino, who immediately put them in his pocket. 

There was a little more in the rouleau than had been bargained for. TheSpaniard took no notice of this, but forming a cross with his thumb andindex finger of his right hand _a la mode Espagnole_, he held it beforeCuchillo, directing him to make an oath upon it. 

"I swear by the cross, " said the latter, "to speak the truth, the wholetruth, and nothing but the truth. At the end of ten days' journeybeyond Tubac, going in a north-western direction, we shall arrive at thefoot of a range of mountains. They are easy to recognise--for a thickvapour hangs over them both night and day. A little river traversesthis range of hills. It is necessary to ascend it to a point whereanother stream runs into it. There in the angle where the two meet, isa steep hill, the summit of which is crowned by the tomb of an Indianchief. I was not near enough to distinguish the strange ornaments thatsurround this tomb; but at the foot of the hill there is a small lake bythe side of a narrow valley in which the water from rain torrents hasthrown to the surface immense treasures of gold, this is the _GoldenValley_. "

"The way will be easily found?" inquired Don Estevan. 

"But difficult to travel, " replied Cuchillo. "The arid deserts will beno obstacle compared with the danger from the hostility of Indians. This tomb of one of their most celebrated chiefs they hold insuperstitious veneration. It is the constant object of theirpilgrimages, and it was during one of these visits that we weresurprised. Arellanos and myself. "

"And this Arellanos--do you think, he has not revealed this secret toany one besides yourself?"

"You must know, " replied Cuchillo, "that it is a custom of thegambusinos, before starting upon any expedition, to swear before theHoly Evangelists not to reveal the _bonanzas_ they may find without theconsent of their associates. This oath Arellanos took, and his death ofcourse prevented him from betraying it. "

"You have said that after his return from his first expedition, you methim in Tubac. Was there no woman whom he may perchance have had in hisconfidence?"

"His wife only--he may have told it to her. But yesterday a vaquerogave me the news that she has lately died. For all that, she may haverevealed the secret to her son. "

"Arellanos had a son then?"

"An adopted son--a young man whose father or mother no one knowsanything about. "

Don Estevan could not repress an involuntary movement. 

"This young fellow is, no doubt, the son of some poor devil of thisprovince?" said the Spaniard, in a careless way. 

"No, " replied Cuchillo, "he was born in Europe, and very likely inSpain. "

Arechiza appeared to fall into a reverie, his head bending towards hisbreast. Some souvenirs were disturbing his spirit. 

"This much at least is known, " continued Cuchillo. "The commander of anEnglish brig-of-war brought him to Guaymas. He stated that the child, who spoke both French and Spanish, had been captured in an affairbetween the brig and a French privateer. A sailor who was either killedin the fight or taken prisoner, was beyond doubt his father. Thecaptain of the English brig, not knowing what to do with him, gave himto Arellanos--who chanced to be in Guaymas at the time--and Arellanosbrought him up and has made a man of him--my faith! that he has. Youngas the fellow is, there is not such a _rastreador_ nor horse-tamer inthe province. "

The Spaniard, while apparently not listening to Cuchillo, did not lose aword of what he was saying; but whether he had heard enough, or that thesubject was a painful one, he suddenly interrupted the gambusino:

"And don't you think, if this wonderful tracker and horse-breaker hasbeen told the secret of his adopted father he might not be a dangerousrival to us?"

Cuchillo drew himself up proudly, and replied:--

"I know a man who will yield in nothing--neither at following a trail, nor taming a wild horse--to Tiburcio Arellanos; and yet this secret hasbeen almost worthless in his keeping, since he has just sold it for thetenth part of its value!"

This last argument of Cuchillo's was sufficiently strong to convince DonEstevan that the Golden Valley was so guarded by these fierce Indiansthat nothing but a strong party could reach it--in short, that hehimself was the only man who could set this force afoot. For a while heremained in his silent reverie. The revelations of Cuchillo in regardto the adopted son of Marcos Arellanos had opened his mind to a new setof ideas which absorbed all others. For certain motives, which wecannot here explain, he was seeking to divine whether this TiburcioArellanos was not the young Fabian de Mediana!

Cuchillo on his part was reflecting on certain antecedents relative tothe gambusino Arellanos and his adopted son; but for powerful reasons hedid not mention his reflections to Don Estevan. There are reasons, however, why the reader should now be informed of their nature. 

The outlaw, as we have said, frequently changed his name. It was by oneof these aliases used up so quickly, that he had been passing, when atthe Presidio Tubac he made the acquaintance of the unfortunateArellanos. When the latter was about starting out on his second andfatal journey--before parting with his wife and the young man whom heloved as well as if he had been his own son--he confided to his wife theobject of his new expedition; and also the full particulars of the routehe intended to take. Cuchillo was nevertheless ignorant of thisrevelation. But the knowledge which the outlaw carefully concealed, wasthat he himself after having reached the Golden Valley guided byArellanos, murdered his companion, in hope of having all the treasure tohimself. It was true enough that the Indians appeared afterwards, andit was with difficulty that the assassin could save his own scalp. Weshall now leave him to tell his own story as to how he made theacquaintance of young Arellanos, and it will be seen that this story isa mere deception practised upon Don Estevan. 

"Nevertheless, " resumed Cuchillo in breaking the silence, "I wasdetermined to free my mind from all doubt upon the subject. On myreturn to Arispe I repaired to the dwelling of the widow of Arellanos toinform her of the death of poor Marcos. But with the exception of thegreat grief which the news caused her, I observed nothing particular--nothing that could give me the least suspicion that I am not the solepossessor of the secret of the Golden Valley. "

"One easily believes what he wishes to believe, " remarked Arechiza. 

"Hear me, Senor Don Estevan! There are two things on which I pridemyself. One is, that I have a conscience easily alarmed; the other, that I am gifted with a perspicuity not easily deluded. "

The Spaniard made no further objections. He was satisfied, not with theoutlaw's conscience, but his perspicuity. 

With regard to Tiburcio Arellanos, we need hardly state what the readerhas no doubt already divined--that this young man was in reality noother than Fabian, the last descendant of the Counts of Mediana. Cuchillo has already related how the English brig brought him toGuaymas. Left without a guide to enable him to discover his family--disinherited of his rich patrimonial estates--an orphan knowing nothingof his parents, here he was in a strange land, the possessor of nothingmore than a horse and a hut of bamboos. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

THE AFTERNOON RIDE. 

When Cuchillo, after the interview just described, came forth from thehovel, the sun was no longer in the vertex of the heavens, but hadcommenced his downward course to the western horizon. The earth, burnedup and dry as tinder, gave forth a thin vapoury mist, that here andthere hung over the surface in condensed masses, giving that appearanceknown as the _mirage_. Limpid lakes presented themselves to the eye, where not a drop of water was known to exist--as if nature, to preservea perfect harmony, offered these to the imagination in compensation forthe absence of the precious fluid itself. Far off in the forest, couldbe heard at intervals the crackling of branches under the burning raysof the sun--just as if the woods were on fire. But the trees werebeginning to open their leaves to the southern breeze that freshened asthe hours passed on, and they appeared impatiently to await thetwilight, when the night-dews would once more freshen their foliage. 

Cuchillo gave a whistle, at which well-known signal his horse camegalloping up to him. The poor beast appeared to suffer terribly fromthe thirst. His master, moved with pity, poured into a bowl a few dropsof water from his skin bottle; and although it was scarce enough tomoisten the animal's lips, it seemed to bring back the vigour of hisspirit. 

Cuchillo having saddled and bridled his horse, and buckled on a pair ofhuge spurs, called one of the attendants of Don Estevan. To this man hegave orders to have the pack of mules harnessed, as well as to collectthe _remuda_ to be sent on in advance--in order that the sleepingquarters for the night should be ready upon their arrival. The placewhere the travellers were to rest that night--as Cuchillo informed thedomestic--was to be at the cistern known as _La Poza_. 

"But _La Poza_ is not on the route to Tubac!" objected the servant; "itlies out of the way and on the road leading to the _Hacienda delVenado_. "

"_You_ have nothing to do with the route, " peremptorily answeredCuchillo, "your master intends spending some days at the Hacienda delVenado. Therefore do as I have ordered you. "

The Hacienda del Venado was the most important estate between Arispe andthe Indian frontier, and its proprietor had the reputation of being themost hospitable man in the whole province. It was, therefore, withoutrepugnance that the attendants of Don Estevan heard this news fromCuchillo--since, although their route of march would be extended inmaking the detour by the Hacienda del Venado, they knew they would enjoyseveral days of pleasant repose at this hospitable mansion. 

The man to whom Cuchillo had given his orders, immediately saddled hishorse and set off to collect the _remuda_. He soon discovered thehorses browsing in the woods near at hand, and collected, as usual, around the bell-mare. 

As he approached, the troop bounded off in affright--just as wild horseswould have done; but the active horseman was too quick for them, foralready the running noose of his lazo was around the neck of one ofthem. The horse, perceiving that he was caught, and knowing well thelazo--whose power he had often felt--yielded without resistance, andpermitted himself to be led quietly away. The _capitansa_ (bell-mare)knew the signal and followed the horse of the servant, with all theothers trooping at her heels. 

Two of the freshest of the drove were left behind, for Don Estevan andthe Senator. These would be enough to serve them as far as La Poza--theplace of their intended night halt--which was only a few hours distant. The other horses, guided by the bell-mare, were taken on in advance, andthe drove soon disappeared behind the cloud of dust thrown up by theirhoofs. 

Shortly after, the Senator made his appearance at the door of the hutwhere he had taken his siesta--a necessity almost imperious in these hotclimates. At the same time, Don Estevan presented himself in the openair. The atmosphere, though a little fresher than when they had goneinside, was still sufficiently stifling to be disagreeable. 

"Carramba!" cried the Senator, after inhaling a few mouthfuls of it, "itis fire, _not_ air, one has to breathe here. If these hovels were not acomplete nest of snakes and scorpions, I should prefer staying in themuntil night, rather than launch myself into this dreadful furnace. "

After this doleful speech the Senator climbed reluctantly into hissaddle, and he and Don Estevan took the route, riding side by side, asin the morning. Behind, at a few paces distance, followed Cuchillo andBaraja, and after these the little _recua_ of mules with the otherdomestics. 

For the first hour of their march the shade of the trees rendered theheat supportable, but soon the forest ended, and the road debouched uponthe open plains that appeared interminable. 

It is hardly possible to conceive a more dreary prospect than thatpresented by those arid plains of Northern Mexico--naked, white, andalmost destitute of vegetation. Here and there at long distances on theroute, may be seen a tall pole which denotes the presence of someartificial well-cistern; but as you draw near, the leathern buckets, bywhich the water is to be raised, show by their stiff contracted outlinesthat for a long time they have held no water, and that the well is driedup--a sad fortune for the traveller whose evil star has guided him intothese deserts during the dry season, especially if at the end of hisday's journey he reckons on a supply from these treacherousdepositaries. If his canteen is not well filled, or if he is by anychance detained upon his route, his story is likely to be that ofhundreds who have perished of thirst upon these plains, between a heavenand an earth that are equally unpitying. 

"Is it true, then, Don Estevan, " inquired the Senator, as he wiped theperspiration from his brow, "that you have been through this countrybefore?"

"Certainly, " replied Don Estevan; "and it is just because I have beenhere before that I am here now. But what brought me here formerly, andwhy I now return, is a secret I shall tell you presently. Let me saythat it is a secret sufficient to turn a man's brain, provided he is notone with a bold, firm heart. Are you that man, senor Senator?" addedthe Spaniard, fixing his eyes upon his companion, with a calm regard. 

The Senator made no reply, farther than by giving a slight shiver thatwas perceptible through his frame, and which denoted that he felt someapprehension as to the role he might be called upon to play. 

The Spaniard did not fail to observe his uneasiness, as he resumed:

"Meanwhile, senor, let me ask you, are you decided to follow my advice, and restore your fortunes by some rich matrimonial alliance which Ishall arrange for you?"

"Without doubt I am, " replied the Senator, "though I can't see whatinterest that can be to you, Senor Don Estevan. "

"That is my affair and my secret. I am not one of those who sell theskin of the bear before the animal is caught. It is enough for you toknow, Don Vicente Tragaduros y Despilfarro, that I have a hundredthousand dollars at your disposal the moment you say the word--it onlyremains for you to hear my conditions, and subscribe to them. "

"I don't say no, " replied the Senator, "but I candidly avow that for thelife of me I cannot think of any one possessing such an inheritance asyou mention--not one in the whole province. "

"Do you know the daughter of the rich landowner Augusta Pena--at whosehacienda, please God, we shall sleep to-morrow night?"

"Oh!" exclaimed the Senator, "the proprietor of the Hacienda del Venado?I have heard of her--_her_ dowry should be a million if report speakstrue; but what folly it would be for me to pretend--"

"Bah!" interrupted the Spaniard. "It is a fortress that well besiegedmay capitulate like any other. "

"It is said that the daughter of Pena is pretty. "

"Beautiful. "

"You know her, then?" said the Senator, regarding his companion with anastonished look. "Perhaps, " he added, "it is to the hacienda of Venadothat you make those periodical and mysterious journeys, so much talkedabout at Arispe?"

"Precisely so. "

"Ah! I understand you, " said the Senator, turning a sly look upon hiscompanion, "it was the beautiful eyes of the daughter that attractedyou, the--?"

"You are mistaken. It was the father, who was simply the banker fromwhom, from time to time, I drew the funds necessary for my expenses atArispe. "

"Is that also the object of our present journey?"

"Partly, " replied the Spaniard, "but not altogether--there is anotherobject, which I will communicate to you hereafter. "

"Well, senor, " answered the Senator, "you are a mystery to me from headto foot; but I abandon myself blindly to your guidance. "

"You do well, " said Don Estevan, "and in all likelihood your sun, for awhile eclipsed, will shine out again with more than its formersplendour. "

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

AN UNFORTUNATE TRAVELLER. 

It was now near sunset; the travellers were still about two leagues fromLa Poza, and the desert plains were nearly passed. Some _mezquite_trees appeared in front thinly covering the calcareous soil, but thetwilight sun began to render less visible the objects here and therescattered over the plain. 

All at once the horse of Don Estevan came to a stand, and showed signsof affright. The steed of the Senator acted in a similar fashion, though neither of the two horsemen could perceive the cause of thisstrange behaviour. 

"It is the body of some dead mule?" suggested the Mexican. 

Don Estevan spurred his horse forward, despite the repugnance of theanimal to advance; and a few paces further on, behind a clump of wildaloe plants, he perceived the body of a horse stretched out upon thesand. Such a sight in these dry plains is by no means uncommon; and thetravellers would not have given a moment's thought to it, but for thefact that the horse in question appeared to be saddled and bridled. This circumstance indicated some extraordinary occurrence. 

Cuchillo had meanwhile ridden forward to the spot. 

"Ah!" said he, after glancing a moment at the dead horse, "the poordevil who has ridden him has met with a double accident: he has not onlylost his horse, but also his water-bottle. See!"

The guide pointed to an object lying upon the ground by the shoulder ofthe fallen horse, and still attached by a strap to the saddle. It was aleathern water-bottle apparently broken and empty. In fact, itsposition proved that the horse, enfeebled by the heat and thirst, hadfallen suddenly to the earth, and the bottle, hardened by the sun, andcoming in contact with the animal's shoulder, had got crushed either bythe fall, or in the struggle that succeeded it. A large fracture wasvisible in the side of the vessel, through which the water had escapedto the very last drop. 

"We are likely enough by and by to stumble upon his owner:" suggestedCuchillo, while he examined the trappings of the dead horse, to see ifthere might be anything worth picking up. "_Por Dios_!" he continued, "this reminds me that I have the very devil's thirst myself, " and as hesaid this, he raised his own bottle to his head, and swallowed somegulps from it. 

The tracks of a man upon the sandy surface, indicated that the travellerhad continued his route on foot; but the footmarks showed also, that hemust have tottered rather than walked. They were unequally distant fromeach other, and wanted that distinctness of shape, that would have beenexhibited by the footsteps of a man standing properly on his legs. 

These points did not escape the keen eyes of Cuchillo, who was one ofthose individuals who could read such dumb signs with an unfailingcertainty. 

"Beyond a doubt, " said he, taking another gulp from his bottle, "thetraveller cannot be far off. "

His conjecture proved correct. A few moments after, the body of a manwas seen by the side of the path, lying upon the ground, and perfectlymotionless. As if this individual had intended that his countenanceshould be hidden from the eyes of any one passing, a broad palm-leaf hatcovered the whole of his face. 

The costume of this traveller in distress, betrayed a certain degree ofpoverty. Besides the hat already mentioned, which appeared old andbattered, a rusty-coloured Indian shirt, somewhat torn, and a pair ofpantaloons of nankeen, with common filigree buttons, appeared to be hisonly garments. At least they were all that could be noticed in theobscure twilight. 

"Benito, " said Don Estevan, calling to one of his servants, "knock offwith the butt of your lance the hat that covers this man's face--perhapshe is only asleep?"

Benito obeyed the order, and tossed aside the hat without dismounting;but the man stretched on the ground did not appear to know what had beendone--at least he made not the slightest movement. 

When the hat was removed, however, the darkness, which had suddenlyincreased, rendered it impossible to distinguish his features. 

"Although it is not exactly your speciality, Senor Cuchillo, " said DonEstevan, addressing himself to the outlaw, "if you will do an act ofhumanity in trying to save the life of this poor devil, you shall havehalf an ounce of gold if you succeed. "

"Cospita! Senor Don Estevan, " cried Cuchillo, "you surely mistake mycharacter. I am the most humane of mortals--that is, " continued he inan undertone, "when it is my interest to be so. You may ride forwardthen; and it will not be my fault, if I don't bring this poor fellowsafe to our halting-place at La Poza. "

In saying these words Cuchillo dismounted, and laying his hands upon theneck of his horse, cried out:

"Now, good Tordilla, don't budge an inch from this spot till I call foryou. "

The animal, pawing the sand, and champing his bit, appeared tocomprehend the words of his master, and remained in the place where hehad been left. 

"Shall we leave one of the servants to assist you?" inquired theSenator, as they were riding off. 

"No, thank you, Senor Don Vicente, " responded Cuchillo, fearing that ifany one was left he might expect some share in the promised _demi-onza_;"it will not be necessary. "

And the cavalcade riding off, left the outlaw alone with the recumbentbody. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

TIBURCIO ARELLANOS. 

Cuchillo approaching the body, bent down to examine the features, andsee if there were any signs of life. At the first glance of that facethe outlaw trembled. 

"Tiburcio Arellanos, as I live!" he involuntarily muttered. 

It was, in truth, the adopted son of his victim whom he saw before him. 

"Yes--there is no mistake--it is he! _Santa Virgen_! if not dead he'snot far off it, " continued he, observing the mortal paleness of theyoung man's countenance. 

A hellish thought at this moment arose in the mind of the outlaw. Perhaps the only man in all the world who shared with him that secret, which he himself had purchased by the crime of murder, was there beforehim--completely in his power. It only needed to finish him, if notalready dead, and to report that he could not be saved. He was in themiddle of the desert, under the shadow of night, where no eye could see, and no hand could hinder; why then should he not make his secret secureagainst every contingency of the future?

All the ferocious instincts of the villain were re-awakened;mechanically he drew the long knife from his boot, and held its pointover the heart of the unconscious Tiburcio. 

At that moment, a slight quivering of the limbs told that the latterstill lived. The outlaw raised his arm, but still hesitated to strikethe blow. 

"It was just thus, " reflected he, "that I stabbed the man he called hisfather--just in the same way, as he slept beside me, in full confidenceof security. I see him now contesting with me for the life of thisyoung fellow more than half gone. I feel at this moment the weight ofhis body upon my shoulders, just as I felt it when I carried him down tothe river. "

And the murderer, at these thoughts, in the middle of the darkness andsolitude, cast around him a look that betrayed the terror with which thesouvenir still inspired him. 

That terror saved the life of Tiburcio; for the knife was thrust backinto its singular scabbard, and the villain, seating himself beside therecumbent form, thrust his hand under the vest of the young man, andheld it over his heart to try whether it was still beating. 

In this attitude he remained for a short while--until satisfied thatTiburcio was yet alive. Then a bright thought seemed to startle him;for a voice had spoken to him from within, stronger than the voice ofconscience. It was that of personal interest. Cuchillo knew the rarequalities of Tiburcio--his talents as a _rastreador_, or tracker--hisdaring prowess in Indian warfare; and after some consideration, heresolved to enrol him in the expedition of Don Estevan, to which hewould no doubt prove of great value. 

"That will be the best plan, " said the outlaw, speaking in soliloquy. "What would his life be worth to me now?--Nothing; and if I wish to haveit hereafter--why, then there will be no lack of opportunities. Hecannot be otherwise than grateful for what I am going to do for him. But let me see how matters stand--of course it is thirst that is killinghim--how lucky I have kept a little water in my canteen!"

He now opened the mouth of the dying man, and holding the neck of theleathern bottle to his lips, poured some drops down his throat. Thewater produced an almost instantaneous reanimation, and the young manopened his eyes, but soon closed them again. 

"That shows he is coming round, " muttered Cuchillo. 

Twice or thrice he repeated the operation, each time doubling the doseof water. Finally, at the end of half an hour or so, Tiburcio wassufficiently recovered to be able to raise himself up, and to answer thequestions put to him by the man who was, in reality, the preserver ofhis life. 

Tiburcio Arellanos was still but a young man; but the sort of life hehad led--solitary, and dependent on his own resources--had given to hisjudgment a precocious maturity. He therefore observed a degree ofprudence in recounting to Cuchillo the death of his adopted mother, towhich subject the outlaw had guided the conversation. 

"During the twenty-four hours that I passed by the death-bed of mymother, " said Tiburcio, "I quite forgot to attend to my horse; and afterall was over I closed the door of the cottage, where I never wished toreturn, and I set out upon this journey. The poor animal, so longneglected, became feeble on the second day, and fell dead under me: and, to my misfortune, my water-bottle was broken in the fall, and the waterspilled upon the sand. I remained on the spot till thirst brought onfever, and then I strayed away; and after wandering about, I know nothow long, I fell, as my horse had done, expecting never more to rise. "

"I comprehend all that, " responded Cuchillo. "Well! it is astonishinghow people will regret the death of parents, who do not leave them theslightest inheritance!"

Tiburcio could have told him, that on her death-bed his adopted motherhad left him a royal, as well as a terrible legacy--the secret of theGolden Valley, and the vengeance of the murder of Marcos Arellanos. Both had been, confided to him--the golden secret upon the especialconditions that Tiburcio would, if necessary, spend the whole of hislife in searching for the assassin. 

Tiburcio appeared to take no notice of Cuchillo's last reflection, andperhaps his discretion proved the saving of his life: for had the outlawbeen made sure that he was in possession of the secret of the GoldenValley, it is not likely he would have made any further efforts to savehim, but the reverse. 

"And is that a fact, " continued Cuchillo, interrogatively, "that withthe exception of a hut which you have abandoned, a horse which hasdropped dead between your legs, and the garments you carry on your back, that Arellanos and his widow have left you nothing?"

"Nothing but the memory of their goodness to me, and a reverence fortheir name. "

"Poor Arellanos! I was very sorry for him, " said Cuchillo, whosehypocrisy had here committed him to an unguarded act of imprudence. 

"You knew him then?" hastily inquired Tiburcio, with some show ofsurprise. "He never spoke to me of you!"

Cuchillo saw that he had made a mistake, and hastened to reply. 

"No, I didn't know him personally. I have only heard him much spoken ofas a most worthy man, and a famous gambusino. That is why I was sorryon hearing of his death. Was it not I who first apprised his widow ofthe unfortunate occurrence, having myself heard of it by chance?"

Notwithstanding the natural tone in which Cuchillo delivered thisspeech, he was one of those persons of such a sinister countenance, thatTiburcio could not help a certain feeling of suspicion while regardingit. But by little and little the feeling gave way, and the young man'sthoughts taking another turn, he remained for some moments buried in asilent reverie. It was merely the result of his feebleness, thoughCuchillo, ever ready to suspect evil, interpreted his silence as arisingfrom a different cause. 

Just then the horse of Cuchillo began to show evident signs of terror, and the instant after, with his hair standing on end, he came gallopingup to his master as if to seek protection. It was the hour when thedesert appears in all its nocturnal majesty. The howling of the jackalscould be heard in the distance; but all at once a voice rising far aboveall the rest appeared to give them a signal to be silent. It was thevoice of the American lion. 

"Do you hear it?" inquired Cuchillo of his companion. 

A howl equally loud, but of a different tone, was heard on the oppositeside. "It is the puma and jaguar about to battle for the body of yourhorse, friend Tiburcio, and whichever one is conquered may take a fancyto revenge himself on us. Suppose you mount behind me, and let us beoff?"

Tiburcio followed the advice; and notwithstanding the double load, thehorse of Cuchillo galloped off like an arrow, impelled to such swiftcourse by the growling of the fierce animals, that for a long time couldbe heard, as if they were following in the rear. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

A STUMBLING HORSE. 

Far along the route these sounds accompanied the two riders--that is, the wailing of the jackals, mingled with the more fearful utterance ofthe great feline denizens of the desert. All at once, however, thesenoises became stilled, as a sound of a far different nature indicatedthe presence of some human being interfering in this scene of thedesert. It was the crack of a gun, but with that quick sharp reportthat distinguishes the detonation of the rifle. 

"A shot!" exclaimed Tiburcio. "But who can be amusing himself byhunting at this time of night, and in the middle of such a desert?"

"Very likely one of those American trappers we see now and then atArispe, where they come to sell their beaver skins. These fellows thinkas little of a puma or a jaguar as they do of a jackal. "

No other noise was afterwards heard to break the imposing silence of thenight. The stars were shining brightly in the blue heaven, and thebreeze, that had now become much cooler, scarce made the slightestrustling as it passed through the branches of the iron-wood trees. 

"Where are you taking me?" asked Tiburcio, after an interval of silence. 

"To La Poza, where I have some companions who are to pass the nightthere. To-morrow, if you like, on to the hacienda of Venado. "

"To the hacienda of Venado! that is just where I was going. "

Had it been daylight, Cuchillo might have seen a blush suddenly reddenthe cheeks of the young man as he pronounced these words; for it was anaffair of the heart, that in spite of all the efforts he had made toresist it, was attracting him to the hacienda de Venado. The object ofhis interest was no other than the daughter of the _haciendado_himself--the young heiress already spoken of. 

"For what purpose were you going there?" inquired Cuchillo, in acareless tone. 

This simple question was nevertheless difficult to be answered. Hiscompanion was not the man to whom the young gambusino could give hisconfidence. He hesitated before making reply. 

"I am without resources, " said he at length, "and I go to ask DonAugustin Pena if he will accept me in the capacity of one of his_vaqueros_. "

"'Tis a poor business you wish to undertake, _amigo_. To expose yourlife forever for such paltry pay as you will get--to keep watch at nightand run about all the day; exposed to the burning heat of the sun, andby night to the cold--for this is the lot of a vaquero. "

"What can I do?" replied Tiburcio. "Besides, it is just the sort oflife I have been accustomed to; have I not always been exposed toprivations and the solitude of the desert plains? These torn calzonerasand well-worn jacket are all that are left me--since I have now nolonger my poor horse. Better turn vaquero than be a beggar!"

"He knows nothing of the secret then, " reflected Cuchillo, "since he ismeditating on an employment of this nature. " Then raising hisvoice:--"You are in truth, then, a complete orphan, amigo; and have noone to mourn for you if you were to die--except myself. Have you bychance heard anything of this grand expedition that is being organisedat Tubac?"

"No. "

"Become one of it then. To an expedition of this kind a resolute youngfellow like you would be a valuable acquisition; and upon your part, anexpert gambusino, such as I fancy you must be--from the school in whichyou have been taught--might make his fortune at a single stroke. "

If he parry this thrust, muttered the outlaw to himself, it will beproof positive that he knows nothing about it. 

Cuchillo was thus pursuing his investigation with a twofold object, sounding Tiburcio about the secret, while at the same time trying toattach him to the expedition by the hope of gain. But cunning as wasthe outlaw, he had to do with a party that was no simpleton. Tiburcioprudently remained silent. 

"Although between ourselves, " continued Cuchillo, "I can tell you that Ihave never been beyond Tubac, yet I am to be one of the guides of thisexpedition. Now what say you?"

"I have my reasons, " replied Tiburcio, "not to engage in it withoutreflection. I therefore demand of you twenty-four hours to think itover, and then you shall have my answer. "

The expedition, of which this was the first news Tiburcio had heard, might, in fact, ruin or favour his own projects--hence the uncertaintyhe felt, and which he contrived so cleverly to conceal by his discreetreserve. 

"Very well, " rejoined Cuchillo, "the thing will keep that long. "

And with this the conversation was discontinued. 

Cuchillo, joyed at being disembarrassed of his apprehension about thesecret, began carelessly whistling while he spurred forward his horse. The greatest harmony continued between these two men, who, though theyknew it not, had each a motive of the deadliest hatred one against theother. Suddenly, as they were thus riding along, the horse that carriedthem stumbled upon the left fore-leg, and almost came to the ground. Onthe instant Tiburcio leaped down, and with eyes flashing fire, cried outin a threatening tone to his astonished companion. 

"You say you have never been beyond Tubac? where did you get this horse, Cuchillo?"

"What business of yours, where I got him?" answered the outlaw, surprised by a question to which his conscience gave an alarmingsignificance, "and what has my horse to do with the interrogatory youhave so discourteously put to me?"

"By the soul of Arellanos! I will know; or, if not--"

Cuchillo gave the spur to his horse, causing him to bound to one side--while at the same time he attempted to unbuckle the straps that fastenedhis carbine to the saddle; but Tiburcio sprang after, seized his hand, and held it while he repeated the question:--

"How long have you owned this horse?"

"There, now! what curiosity!" answered Cuchillo, with a forced smile, "still, since you are so eager to know--it is--it is about six weekssince I became his master; you may have seen me with him, perhaps?"

In truth it was the first time Tiburcio had seen Cuchillo with thishorse--that, notwithstanding his bad habits of stumbling, was otherwisean excellent animal, and was only used by his master on grand occasions. For this very reason Tiburcio had not seen him before. 

The ready lie of the outlaw dissipated, no doubt, certain suspicionsthat had arisen in the mind of the young man, for the latter let go thehorseman's wrist, which up to this time he had held in his firm grasp. 

"Pardon me!" said he, "for this rudeness; but allow me to ask youanother question?"

"Ask it!" said Cuchillo, "since we are friends; in fact, among friends, one question less or more can make no difference. "

"Who sold you this horse six weeks ago?"

"Por Dios, his owner, of course--a stranger, whom I did not know, butwho had just arrived from a long journey. "

Cuchillo repeated these words in a slow and drawling manner, as if togain time for some hidden purpose. 

"A stranger?" repeated Tiburcio; "pardon me! one more question?"

"Has the horse been stolen from _you_?" asked the outlaw in an ironicaltone. 

"No--but let us think no more of my folly--pardon me, senor!"

"I pardon you, " answered Cuchillo, in a tone of magnanimity, "the moreso, " added he mentally, "that you will not go much further, you son of ahound!"

Tiburcio, unsuspecting, was no longer on his guard, and the outlaw, profiting by the darkness, had already detached his carbine from thesaddle. In another moment, beyond doubt, he would have carried intoexecution his demoniac purpose, had it not been for the appearance of ahorseman, who was coming at full gallop along the road. Besides thehorse which he rode, the horseman led behind him another, saddled andbridled. He was evidently a messenger from Don Estevan. 

"Ah! is it you, Senor Cuchillo?" he cried out, as he rode up. 

"The devil!" grumbled the outlaw, at this ill-timed interruption. "Ah!is it you, Senor Benito?" he inquired, suddenly changing his tone. 

"Yes. Well, have you saved the man? Don Estevan has sent me back toyou with a gourd of fresh water, and a horse to bring him on. "

"He is there, " replied Cuchillo, pointing to Tiburcio, who stood at alittle distance, "thanks to me he is sound and safe--until I have achance of being once more alone with him, " he muttered, in a tone notintended to be heard. 

"Well, gentlemen, " remarked the servant, "we had better go on--thecamping place is not far from here--we can soon reach it. "

Tiburcio leaped into the empty saddle, and the three galloped silentlytoward the place where the travellers had halted--the servant thinkingonly of reaching it as soon as possible, and going to rest--Cuchillomentally cursing the interruption that had forced him to adjourn hisproject of vengeance--and Tiburcio vainly endeavouring to drive out ofhis mind the suspicion which this curious incident had aroused. 

In this occupation the three rode on for about a quarter of an hour, until the gleam of fires ahead discovered the halting-place of thetravellers at La Poza. Soon afterwards their camp itself was reached. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

LA POZA. 

The place known by the name "La Poza" was the only one, within a circleof many leagues, where at this time of the year water could be found. There was here a natural cistern or well--partly nourished by a spring, and partly by rain from the skies. It was hollowed at the bottom of alittle crater-shaped valley, only a few paces in circumference, thesloping side's of which served to conduct to the well the rain-waterthat fell around. 

The ridges inclosing the little valley were crowned with trees of thickfrondage, which, nourished by the evaporation of the water, appearedgreen and vigorous, and protected the cistern from the burning rays ofthe sun. The green grass that grew around, the cool shadow of thetrees, and the freshness of the air, rendered the well of La Poza, inthe middle of the desert, a delicious little oasis. Besides serving asexcellent resting-place for travellers, it was a favourite resort ofhunters, who used it as a stalking-ground for animals--elks and deer--aswell as jaguars and other fierce beasts that in great numbers came tothe well to drink. 

At a short distance from the cistern of La Poza commenced a tract ofthick forest through which ran the path leading to the Hacienda delVenado. Nearer to the edge of the little valley, upon the side of thispath, the travellers had kindled an enormous fire, partly to defendthemselves from the the cold night air, and partly to frighten off anyjaguars or pumas that might be in the neighbourhood of the water. 

Not far from this fire the servants had placed the camp-beds of theSenator and Don Estevan; and while a large saddle of mutton was beingroasted for supper, a skin bottle of wine was cooling in the fresh waterwith which the trough had been filled. 

After a painful day's march, it was an attractive spectacle which thisscene presented to the eyes of the travellers. 

"_Mine_! your halting-place, Tiburcio, " said Cuchillo, as they rode intothe camp, and speaking in a tone of pretended friendliness in order toconceal the real rancour which he felt. "Dismount here, while I go andreport your arrival to our chief. It is Don Estevan de Arechiza himselfunder whose orders we are enrolled; so, too, may you be, if you desireit; and between ourselves, _amigo_, it is the best thing you can do. "

Cuchillo fearing that his victim might escape him, now wished more thanever that he should join the expedition. He pointed out Don Estevan andthe Senator seated on their camp-beds, and visible in the light of thegreat fire, while Tiburcio was not yet seen by them. Cuchillo himselfadvanced toward Don Estevan. 

"I am desirous, Senor Don Estevan, " said he, addressing himself to theSpaniard, "to say two words to your honour, with the permission of hisexcellency the Senator. "

Don Estevan arose from his seat and made a sign to Cuchillo to accompanyhim into one of the dark alleys of the forest, the same by which thepath entered that led to the hacienda. 

"You could hardly guess, Senor Don Estevan, who is the man yourgenerosity has saved--for I have brought him with me safe and sound, asyou see?"

Without making answer, Don Estevan took from his purse the piece of goldhe had promised, and handed it to Cuchillo. 

"It is the young Tiburcio Arellanos to whom you have given life, "continued the outlaw. "As for me I only followed the dictates of myheart; but it may be that we have both done a very foolish action. "

"Why that?" asked the Spaniard. "This young man will be easily watchedso long as he is near us; and I presume he is decided to be one of ourexpedition?"

"He has asked twenty-four hours to reflect upon it. "

"Do you think he knows anything of--"

"I have my fears, " replied Cuchillo, in a melancholy tone, littleregarding the lie he was telling, and the purpose of which was to renderthe Spaniard suspicious of the man he had himself vowed to kill. "Inany case, " continued he, with a significant smile, "we have saved hislife, and that will serve as _tit for tat_. "

"What do you mean to say?"

"Only that my conscience assures me it will be perfectly tranquil if--if--Carramba!" added he, brusquely--"if I should send this young fellowto be broiled with his mother in the other world. "

"God forbid that!" exclaimed the Spaniard, in a lively tone. "Whatneed? Admit that he knows all: I shall be in command of a hundred men, and he altogether alone. What harm can the fellow do us. I have nouneasiness about him. I am satisfied, and so must you be. "

"Oh! I am satisfied if you are, " growled Cuchillo, like a dog whosemaster had hindered him from biting some one, "quite satisfied, " hecontinued, "but perhaps hereafter--"

"I shall see this young man, " said the Spaniard, interrupting him, andadvancing in the direction where Tiburcio stood, while Cuchillofollowed, talking to himself:

"What the devil possessed him to ask how long I had owned my horse? Letme see! the animal stumbled, I remember, and it was just then hedismounted and threatened me. I can't understand it, but I suspect whatI do not understand. "

When Arechiza and Cuchillo reached the camp, an excitement was observedamong the horses, that gathered around the _capitansa_, at a shortdistance from the fire, and to all appearance in a state of extremeterror, were uttering a wild and continuous neighing. Some danger yetafar, but which the animals' instincts enabled them to perceive, was thecause of this sudden _stampede_. 

"It is some jaguar they have scented, " suggested one of the domestics. 

"Bah!" replied another, "the jaguars attack only young foals--theywouldn't dare to assault a strong vigorous horse. "

"Do you think so?" demanded the first speaker. "Ask Benito here, who, himself, lost a valuable animal taken by the jaguars. "

Benito, hearing this reference to himself, advanced towards the twospeakers. 

"One day, " he began, "or rather, one night just like this, I chanced tobe at a distance from the Hacienda del Venado, where I was a _vaquero_at the time. I was in search of a strayed horse, and not finding him, had made up my mind to pass the night at the spring of _Ojo da Agua_. Itied my horse at a good distance off--where there was better grass--andI was sleeping, as a man sleeps after riding twenty leagues, when I wassuddenly awakened by all the howlings and growlings of the devils. Themoon shone so clear you might have fancied it daylight. All at once myhorse came galloping toward me with the lazo hanging round his neck, which he had broken at the risk of hanging himself. 

"`Here then, ' said I, `I shall now have two horses to go in search ofinstead of one. '

"I had scarce made this reflection, when I observed, under the light ofthe moon, a superb jaguar bounding after my horse. He scarce appearedto touch the ground, and each leap carried him forward twenty feet ormore. 

"I saw that my poor steed was lost. I listened with anxiety, but for awhile heard nothing. At the end of a quarter of an hour, however, aterrible roar--"

The speaker paused, and stood trembling. 

"_Virgen Santa_!" cried he, "that's it!" as the fearful cry of a jaguarat that moment echoed through the camp, succeeded by a deathlikestillness, as if both men and animals had been alike terrified intosilence. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

NOCTURNAL VISITORS. 

The sudden shock occasioned by the perception of a peril so proximateand imminent paralysed every tongue. Even the ex-herdsman himself wassilent, and appeared to reflect what had best be done to avoid thedanger. 

At this instant the voice of Don Estevan broke the temporary silencethat reigned within the camp. 

"Get your weapons ready!" shouted he. 

"It is useless, master, " rejoined the old vaquero, whose experienceamong jaguars gave a certain authority to his words, "the best thing tobe done, is to keep the fire ablaze. "

And saying this, he flung an armful of fagots upon it, which, being asdry as tinder, at once caught flame--so as to illumine a large circlearound the camp. 

"If they are not choking with thirst, " said Benito, "these demons ofdarkness will not dare come within the circle of the fire. But, indeed, they are often choking with thirst, and then--"

"Then!" interrupted one of the domestics, in a tone of anxiety. 

"Then, " continued the herdsman, "then they don't regard either light orfire; and if we are not determined to defend the water against theirapproach, we had better get out of their way altogether. These animalsare always more thirsty than hungry. "

"How when they have drunk?" asked Baraja, whose countenance, under thelight of the fire, betrayed considerable uneasiness. 

"Why, then they seek to appease their hunger. "

At this moment a second cry from the jaguar was heard, but farther offthan the first. This was some relief to the auditory of Benito, who, relying upon his theory, was satisfied that the animal was not yet atthe extreme point of suffering from thirst. All of them preservedsilence--the only sounds heard being the crackling of the dry stickswith which Baraja kept the fire profusely supplied. 

"Gently there, Baraja! gently!" called out the vaquero, "if you consumeour stock of firewood in that fashion, you will soon make an end of it, and, _por Dios_! _amigo_, you will have to go to the woods for a freshsupply. "

"There! hold your hand, " continued he, after a pause, "and try to makethe fagots last as long as possible, else we may get in darkness and atthe mercy of the tiger. He is sure to come back again in an hour ortwo, and far thirstier than before. "

If Benito had desired to frighten his companions, he could not havesucceeded better. The eyes of one and all of them were anxiously bentupon the heap of dried sticks that still remained by the fire, and whichappeared scarcely sufficient to last for another hour. But there wassomething so earnest in the tone of the ex-herdsman, despite the jestingway in which he spoke, that told he was serious in what he had said. 

Of course, Don Estevan had postponed the interview with Tiburcio; andthe young man, still ignorant that it was to Don Estevan he really owedhis life, did not think of approaching to offer him thanks. Moreover, he saw that the moment would be ill-timed to exchange compliments ofcourtesy with the chief of the expedition, and for this reason heremained standing where Cuchillo had left him. 

Nevertheless Don Estevan could not hinder himself from casting anoccasional glance in the direction where the young man stood--thoughthrough the obscurity he could make no exact observation of hisfeatures. 

The silence continued. Don Estevan and the Senator remained seated ontheir camp-beds, carbine in hand, while Benito, surrounded by the otherdomestics, formed a group by the side of the fire. The horses had allapproached within a few feet of their masters, where they stoodtrembling and breathing loudly from their spread nostrils. Theirbehaviour indicated an instinct on their part that the danger was notyet over. 

Several minutes passed, in which no human voice broke the silence. Inthe midst of greatest perils there is something consolatory in the soundof a man's voice--something which makes the danger appear less; and asif struck by this idea, some one asked Benito to continue the narrativeof his adventures. 

"I have told you then, " resumed the ex-herdsman, "that I saw the tigerspringing after my horse, and that in the chase both disappeared from mysight. The moment after, the horse came galloping back; but I knew thatit was his last gallop, as soon as by the light of the moon I saw theterrible rider that he carried. The jaguar was upon his back, flattenedover his shoulders, with the neck of the poor horse fast between hisjaws. 

"They had not gone a dozen paces before I heard a crackling sound--as ifsome bone had been crushed--and on the instant I saw the horse stumbleand fall. Both tiger and horse rolled over and over in a short butterrible struggle, and then my poor steed lay motionless. 

"For safety I stole away from the dangerous proximity; but returningafter daylight, I found only the half-stripped skeleton of a horse thathad carried me for many a long year. 

"And now, amigo, " continued the ex-herdsman, turning to the man who hadfirst spoken, "do you still think that the jaguar attacks only foals?"

No one made reply, but Benito's audience turned their glances outwardfrom the fire, fearing that in the circle around they might see shiningthe eyes of one of these formidable animals. 

Another interval of silence succeeded to the narrative of the vaquero. This was broken by the young man Tiburcio, who, used to the wild life ofthe plains and forests, was very little frightened by the presence ofthe jaguars. 

"If you have a horse, " said he, "you need not much fear the jaguar; heis sure to take your horse first. Here, we have twenty horses and onlyone tiger. "

"The young man reasons well, " rejoined Baraja, reassured by theobservation of Tiburcio. 

"Twenty horses for one tiger--yes, " replied Benito; "but suppose thehorses don't choose to remain here. Supposing, what is likely enough tohappen, we have an _estampeda_--the horses will be off. Now the jaguarknows very well he cannot overcome a horse unless he does so in thefirst bound or two. I will not follow the horses then, but will stay bythe water, and of course by us as well. Besides, the jaguars that huntby these springs are likely enough to have tasted human flesh beforenow; and if so, they will not, as the young man affirms, prefer theflesh of a horse. "

"Very consoling, that, " interrupted Cuchillo. 

Benito appeared to be a man fond of the most frightful suggestions, fornot contented with what he had already said, he continued--

"If there be but one jaguar, then he will be satisfied with one of us, but in case he should chance to be accompanied by his female, then--"

"Then what, by all the devils?" demanded Cuchillo. 

"Why, then--but I don't wish to frighten you. "

"May thunder strike you! Speak out, " cried Baraja, suffering at thesuspense. 

"Why, in that case, " coolly added Benito, "the tiger would undoubtedlyshow his gallantry to his female by killing a pair of us. "

"Carramba!" fervently exclaimed Baraja. "I pray the Lord that thistiger may be a bachelor, " and as he said this he flung a fresh armful offagots on the fire. 

"Gently, amigo! gently, " interrupted the ex-herdsman, lifting off someof the sticks again. "We have yet at least six hours of night, andthese fagots will scarce serve to keep up the light for one. Gently, Isay! We have still three chances of safety: the first that the jaguarmay not be thirsty; the second, that he may content himself with one ofour horses; and the third, that he may, as you have wished it, be a_bachelor_ tiger. "

There was no response, and another interval of silence succeeded. During this it was some consolation to the travellers to see the moon, which now, rising above the horizon, lit up the plains with her whitebeams, and flung her silvery effulgence over the trees. From thedirection of the woods came the mournful notes of the great horned owl, and the sound of flapping wings, caused by the vampire bat, as it glidedthrough the aisles of the forest. No other sounds appeared to indicatethe presence of living thing except those made by the horses or thetravellers themselves. 

"Do you think, " said Baraja, addressing himself to Benito, "that thejaguar is likely to return again? I have known these animals howl atnight around my hut, and then go off altogether. "

"Yes, " replied Benito, "that may be when their drinking place is leftfree to them. Here we have intercepted their approach to the water. Besides, here are both men and horses--both food and drink in one place;it is not likely they have gone away from a spot that promises tofurnish them with both. No, I warrant you, they are still in theneighbourhood. "

At this moment the cry of the jaguar was heard once more, proving thecorrectness of Benito's judgment. 

"There!" cried he, "just as I said; the beast is nearer too--no doubthis thirst is increasing--the more so that he is hindered fromapproaching the spring. Ha! do you hear that?"

This exclamation was caused by another roar of the jaguar, but evidentlynot the one that had been already frightening the travellers--for thiscry came from the opposite side of the camp. 

"Ave Maria!" screamed Baraja, in anguish, "the tiger has a wife!"

"You speak true, " said Benito, "there are two of them, and they must bea male and female, since two male jaguars never hunt in company. "

"_Carrai_!" exclaimed Cuchillo, "may the devil take me if ever I passeda night in the company of such a man as this old herdsman. He wouldfrighten the hair off one's head if he could. "

"After all, " said Baraja, "I think there can't be much danger, so longas we have got the horses between us and these terrible brutes. "

Unhappily, this chance of safety was not to exist much longer, for justthen the jaguars recommenced their growling, both of them nearer thanever. The effect upon the horses was now exhibited in a complete_estampeda_, --for these animals, seeing they could no longer rely upontheir masters for protection, preferred trusting to their heels, and oneand all of them broke away in a wild gallop. 

As this last chance of security was gone, the old vaquero, leaving thefire, approached the spot where Don Estevan and the Senator were seated, and thus addressed them:--

"Gentlemen, " said he, "prudence requires that you will not remain so farfrom the rest of us. As you perceive there is danger on both sides, itwill be best that we should all keep close together, and as near thefire as possible. "

The affrighted look of the Senator offered a striking contrast to thecountenance of Don Estevan, which still preserved its calm rigidity. 

"It is good advice this faithful servant gives us, " said Tragaduros, rising to do as Benito had suggested. 

"Come, Benito, " said Don Estevan, "these are nothing but hunter'sstories you have been telling, and you wish to frighten these novices?Is it not so?"

"As I live, Senor Don Estevan, 'tis the truth!"

"There is a real danger, then?"

"Certain there is, my master!"

"Very well, in that case I shall remain where I am. "

"Are you in earnest?" asked the frightened Tragaduros. 

"Quite so--the duty of a leader is to protect his followers, " said theSpaniard, proudly, "and that is what I mean to do. If the danger isonly from the right and left as it appears to be--I shall guard theright here. There are two bullets in my gun, and with these and a sureeye, what care I for a jaguar? You, Senor Don Vicente, can take yourstand on the left of the fire, and watch that side. If it appearsprudent to you to keep near the men, do so. "

This compromise appeared to the taste of Tragaduros, who had no idea ofexposing the person of a man who was to be the future proprietor of amillion of dollars dowry. He lost no time, therefore, in crossing overto the fire, and although he made a feint to keep watch on the oppositeside from that guarded by Don Estevan, he took care to remain within afew feet of the group of attendants. 

These dispositions had scarce been completed, when a formidable dialoguewas struck up between the two fierce beasts that were approaching onopposite sides of the camp. Now they would utter a hoarse roaring, thena series of screams and yells, succeeded by a shrill mewing thatresembled the caterwauling of cats--only louder and more terrific in itseffect. Though Benito and Tiburcio knew that all these noises werecaused by a single pair of tigers, the others imagined that not lessthan a dozen must be engaged in the frightful chorus. 

The gun of the Senator shook in his hand--Baraja commended his soul toall the saints in the Spanish calendar--Cuchillo clutched his carbine, as if he would crush it between his fingers--while the chief himselfcoolly awaited the denouement of the drama. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

THE TIGER HUNTERS. 

By the light of the fire Don Estevan could be seen walking in thedirection whence proceeded the cries of the jaguar that was approachingon the right. He appeared calm as if going out in search of a deer. Tiburcio, at the aspect of the Spanish chief, felt within him thatexultation of spirit which danger produces in certain energetic natures;but his dagger was the only weapon he possessed. 

He cast a glance at the double-barrelled gun which the Senator held inhis hand, and of which the latter was likely to make a use more fatal tohis companions than to the jaguar. 

On his part the Senator cast an envious look upon the safe positionwhich Tiburcio occupied--in the centre of the group formed by Benito andhis companions. Tiburcio read the meaning of this look. 

"Senor Senator, " said he, "it is not proper that you should expose yourlife thus--a life valuable to the state. You have relatives--a noblefamily; as for me, if I should be killed, there is no one to care forme. "

"The fact is, " said the Senator, "if others set upon my life one halfthe value I put upon it myself, my death would cause a great deal ofunhappiness. "

"Well, senor, suppose we change places? You give me your gun, andpermit me to place my body in front of you as a rampart against theclaws of the jaguars. "

This proposal was made at the moment when the two cavernous voices ofthe ferocious beasts were heard loudly answering to one another. Underthe impression produced by the terrible dialogue, Tiburcio's offer washastily accepted. The Senator took his place; while the young man, withsparkling eyes and firm step, advanced several paces in the direction ofthe forest whence came theories of the jaguar. There he halted toreceive the attack that appeared inevitable. 

Don Estevan and he appeared motionless as a pair of statues. Theunequal reflection of the fire gleamed upon these two men--whom chancehad thus strangely united--neither of whom might yield to the other inpride or courage. 

The moment was becoming critical. The two jaguars were about to findenemies worthy of them. 

The fire, now burnt down, threw out only a pale light, scarce strongenough to illumine the group that stood near its edge. 

At this moment an incident occurred which was likely to cause a changein the situation of affairs. In the midst of an interval of silence--inwhich the very stillness itself increased the apprehension of thetravellers--was heard the long lugubrious whine of a prairie wolf. Melancholy as was this sound, it was sweet in comparison with the criesof the more formidable animals, the jaguars. 

"The prairie wolf to howl in the presence of the tiger!" muttered theex-herdsman. "Carramba! there's something strange about that. "

"But I have heard it said, " rejoined Tiburcio, "that it is the habit ofthe prairie wolf to follow the jaguar when the latter is in search ofprey?"

"That is true enough, " replied Benito, "but the wolf never howls so nearthe tiger, till after the tiger has taken his prey and is busy devouringit. Then his howl is a humble prayer for the other to leave himsomething. 

"This is strange, " continued the vaquero, as the prairie wolf was heardto utter another long whine. "Hark! another!--yes--another prairie wolfand on the opposite side too!"

In fact, another plaintive whine, exactly resembling the first, both instrength and cadence, was heard from a point directly opposite. 

"I repeat it, " said Benito, "prairie wolves would never dare to betraythemselves thus. I am greatly mistaken if it be not creatures of adifferent species that make this howling, and who don't care a straw forthe jaguars. "

"What creatures?" demanded Tiburcio. 

"Human creatures!" answered the ex-herdsman. "American hunters from thenorth. "

"Trappers do you mean?"

"Precisely. There are no people in these parts likely to be so fearlessof the jaguar, and I am pretty sure that what appears to be the call ofthe prairie wolf is nothing else than a signal uttered by a brace oftrappers. They are in pursuit of the jaguars; they have separated, andby these signals they acquaint one another of their whereabouts. "

Meanwhile the trappers, if such they were, appeared to advance withconsiderable precaution; for although the party by the fire listenedattentively, not the slightest noise could be heard--neither thecracking of a branch, nor the rustling of a leaf. 

"Hilloa! you by the fire there!" all at once broke out from the midst ofthe darkness a loud rough voice, "we are approaching you. Don't beafraid; and don't fire your guns!"

The voice had a foreign accent, which partly confirmed the truth of thevaquero's conjecture, and the appearance of the speaker himself provedit to a certainty. 

We shall not stay to describe the singular aspect of the new arrival--further than to say that he was a man of herculean stature, andaccoutred in the most _bizarre_ fashion. He appeared a sort of giantarmed with a rifle--proportioned to his size--that is, having a barrelof thick heavy metal nearly six feet in length. 

As he approached the group his sharp eye soon took in the differentindividuals that composed it, and rested with a satisfied look on theform of Tiburcio. 

"The devil take that fire of yours!" he said abruptly, but in a tone ofgood-humour. "It has frightened away from us two of the most beautifuljaguars that ever roamed about these deserts. "

"Frightened them away!" exclaimed Baraja. "_Carramba_! I hope that maybe true!"

"Will you allow me to put the fire out?" inquired the new-comer. 

"Put out the fire--our only safeguard!" cried the astonished Senator. 

"Your only safeguard!" repeated the trapper, equally astonished, as hepointed with his finger around him. "What! eight men wanting a fire fora safeguard against two poor tigers! You are surely making game of me!"

"Who are you, sir?" demanded Don Estevan, in a haughty tone. 

"A hunter--as you see. "

"Hunter, of what?"

"My comrade and I trap the beaver, hunt the wolf, the tiger--or anIndian, if need be. "

"Heaven has sent you then to deliver us from these fierce animals, " saidCuchillo, showing himself in front. 

"Not very likely, " replied the trapper, whose first impression of theoutlaw was evidently an unfavourable one. "Heaven I fancy had nothingto do with it. My comrade and I at about two leagues from here chancedupon a panther and two jaguars, quarrelling over the body of a deadhorse. "

"I re was mine, " interrupted Tiburcio. 

"Yours, young man!" continued the trapper, in a tone of rude cordiality. "Well, I am glad to see you here, for we thought that the owner of thehorse might be no longer among the living. The panther we killed, butthe two jaguars made off, and we tracked them hither to the spring, which your fire now hinders them from approaching. Therefore, if youwish to be rid of these beasts, the sooner you put out the fire thebetter; and you will see how soon we shall disembarrass you of theirpresence. "

"And your comrade?" asked Don Estevan, struck with the idea of making abrace of valuable recruits. "Where is he?"

"He'll be here presently; but to the work, else we must leave you to getout of your scrape as you best can. "

There was a certain authority in the tone and words of the trapper--acool assurance that produced conviction--and upon his drawing near toput out the fire, Don Estevan did not offer to hinder him, but tacitlypermitted him to have his way. 

In a few seconds the burnt fagots were scattered about over the grass, and the cinders quenched by a few buckets of water drawn from thetrough. This done the trapper uttered an imitation of the voice of thecoyote; and before its echoes had died away, his companion steppedforward upon the ground. 

Although the second trapper was by no means a man of low stature, alongside his companion he appeared only a pigmy. He was not lessstrangely accoutred, but in the absence of the firelight his costume wasnot sufficiently visible for its style to be distinguished. Of him andhis dress we shall hereafter speak more particularly. 

"At last your devilish fire is out, " said he, as he came up, "for thewant of wood, no doubt, which none of you dared to go fetch. "

"No, that is not the reason, " hastily replied the first trapper; "I gotleave from these gentlemen to put it out--so that we may have anopportunity to rid them of the presence of the tigers. "

"Hum!" murmured the Senator; "I fear we have done wrong in letting thefire be put out. Suppose you miss them?"

"Miss them! _Por Dios_! how?" cried the second trapper. "_Caspita_!If I had not been afraid to frighten off one of the beasts, I could havekilled the other long ago. Several times I had him at the muzzle of mycarbine, when the signal of my comrade hindered me from firing. Missthem indeed!"

"Never mind!" interrupted the great trapper; "we shall end the matter, Ihave no doubt, by convincing this gentleman. "

"You already knew, then, that we were here?" said Baraja. 

"Of course. We have been two hours involuntarily playing the spy uponyou. Ah! I know a part of the country where travellers that take nomore precautions than you would soon find their heads stripped of theskin. But come, Dormilon! to our work!"

"What if the jaguars come our way?" suggested the Senator, apprehensively. 

"No fear of that, " replied the trapper. "Their first care will be tosatisfy their thirst, which your fire has hindered them from doing. Youwill hear them howling with joy, as soon as they perceive that the fireis gone out. It was the light shining upon the water that frightenedthem more than the presence of men. All they want now is to get adrink. "

"But how do you intend to act?" inquired Don Estevan. 

"How do we intend to act?" repeated the second trapper. "That is simpleenough. We shall place ourselves in the cistern--the jaguars will comeforward to its brink; and then, if we are only favoured by a blink ofthe moon, I'll answer for it that in the twinkling of an eye the bruteswill neither feel hunger nor thirst. "

"Ah, this appears very simple!" cried Cuchillo, who was in realityastonished at the simplicity of the plan. 

"Simple as bidding `good-bye' to you, " humorously responded one of thetrappers. "Listen there!--what did I tell you?"

Two loud roars, as if from a brazen trumpet, were heard at the moment. They appeared to proceed from the same point, proving that the jaguarshad joined company; and, moreover, proclaimed the joy which the fiercecreatures felt at the darkness being restored. This was further evidentfrom their repeated sniffing of the air, like horses who afar off scentwith delight the fresh emanations of the water. 

At this the two trappers, leaving the party by the fire, betookthemselves to the cistern. The moon, for a moment shining out, glancedupon the barrels of their long rifles; but the next moment they haddisappeared behind the ridge that surrounded the spring. 

No doubt it is a grand pleasure to witness the spectacle of abull-fight, as the huge bull dashes into the ring, and, pierced by thetormenting _bandrilleros_, with a crest erect, and eyes flashing fire, bounds over the arena. But, if the spectators were not separated fromthe actors by an impassable barrier, the sight would have in it less ofenjoyment than of terror. The combats between men and tigers--which theRomans used to enjoy--must have been a still more exciting spectacle;but who can doubt that, if the iron railing which separated the audiencefrom the combatants had been removed, scarce one of the former wouldhave remained in the circus to witness the sanguinary struggle?

Only a short space--not wider than a jaguar could have passed over in asingle leap--here separated the spectators from the actors in the dramaabout to be enacted. Supposing, then, that one of the actors shouldfail in performing his part, and the spectators have to take his place?Here was a situation, exceptional, and fertile in emotions, which mostof the travellers felt keenly at the moment. 

Meanwhile the trappers had descended into the little crater-like valleyof the spring, and there placed themselves in readiness, rifle in hand, to await the approach of their terrible adversaries. They were bothupon their knees, back to back, in order that they could keep at thesame time under view the whole circumference of the circle. Both hadplaced their knives in readiness, in case that, by any chance, theyshould either miss their aim, or--what would be almost as unlucky--onlywound the enemy; for they well knew that a wounded jaguar is a moredangerous adversary than one that escapes altogether from the touch ofthe bullet. 

Fortunately the moon had again appeared; but being yet low down in thesky, her beams were not thrown into the bottom of the valley--andtherefore the trappers themselves were still under the shadow. Thiscircumstance was in their favour. 

Notwithstanding the perilous position in which they had thus voluntarilyplaced themselves, neither made the slightest movement; and the longbarrels of their rifles stood forth in front of them, as motionless asbronze cannon set in battery. 

They well knew, in case either should miss with their firearms, that ahand-to-hand struggle with the ferocious tigers would be the result; acombat of knives and claws--a combat to the death. Yes; at the bottomof that little valley it would be necessary for them to conquer or die. They knew this without exhibiting the slightest show of fear. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

UNEXPECTED RECOGNITIONS. 

It was not long before the spectators, who awaited this terribleconflict, perceived the jaguars advancing toward the crest of the ridge. All at once, however, the two made an abrupt pause, uttering a loudroar that seemed to express disappointment. They had just scented thepresence of the two men within the cistern--from which the animals werenow only a few paces distant. 

For a moment both male and female stood together, stretching theirbodies out to their full length, and lashing their flanks with theirlong sinewy tails. Then, uttering another prolonged roar, they boundedsimultaneously forward, passing, at a single leap, over a space of fulltwenty feet. A second spring brought them upon the crest of the ridge, upon which they had scarce rested an instant, before the quick sharpcrack of a rifle, followed by a yell of agony, told that one of them hadfallen to the hunter's bullet. 

The second jaguar appeared for the moment to have escaped, but not tohave retreated. He was seen to launch himself into the bottom of thelittle valley; and then was heard a confusion of noises--human voicesmingling with the howls of the fierce brute, and the sound of astruggle, as if jaguar and hunters were rolling over one another. Asecond report now struck upon the ear, followed as before by theexpiring yell of the tiger, and then succeeded a profound silence, whichtold that the wild scene was at an end. 

The great trapper was now perceived scrambling up to the ridge--towardswhich the whole of the travellers had advanced to meet him. 

"See!" he said, addressing himself to his admiring auditory, "see what abrace of Kentucky rifles and a good knife can do in the hands of thosewho know how to manage them!"

The darkness, however, hindered the spectators from making out thetableau which was exhibited at the bottom of the little valley. 

A few minutes afterwards the moon lighted up the scene, and then couldbe observed the dead bodies of the two tigers, stretched along theground by the water's edge, while the other trapper upon his knees wasengaged in bathing with cold water a long scar, which he had receivedfrom the claws of the last killed jaguar, and which extended from behindhis ear nearly down to his waist. Fortunately this ugly-looking woundwas no more than skin-deep, and therefore not very dangerous. 

"What signify the sharpest claws compared with the scratch of a knife!"cried he, pointing to the nearest of the jaguars, whose upturned bellyexhibited a huge cut of more than a foot in length, and through whichthe entrails of the animal protruded. 

"Can any of you tell us, " continued he, without thinking further abouthis wound, "if there is a hacienda in this neighbourhood where one mightsell these two beautiful jaguar skins, as well as the hide of a pantherwe've got?"

"Certainly, " replied Benito, "there is the Hacienda del Venado, where weare going. There you may get not only five dollars apiece for theskins, but also the bounty of ten dollars more. "

"What say you, Canadian?" inquired the trapper, addressing his greatcomrade. "Will that do?"

"Certainly, " replied the Canadian, "forty-five dollars is not to besneezed at; and when we have had a short nap we shall make tracks forthe hacienda. We shall be likely to get there before these gentlemen, whose horses have taken a fancy to have a bit of a gallop, and I guessit will be some time before they lay hands on them again. "

"Don't be uneasy about us!" rejoined the ex-herdsman. "It's not thefirst time I've seen a horse drove _stampedoed_, nor the first time I'vecollected them again. I've not quite forgotten my old business, and assoon as it is daylight, with the permission of the Senor Don Estevan, Ishall go in search of them. "

No one made any opposition to the rekindling of the fire, for the nighthad grown cooler, and it was not yet midnight. The domestics, no longerafraid of going out into the woods, collected fresh fagots--enough tolast till morning--and the preparations for supper, which had beeninterrupted by the approach of the jaguars, were now continued withrenewed zeal. 

The blaze soon flared up bright and joyous as ever--the broiling muttonsent forth its delicious odour, sharpening to a keen edge the appetitesof the travellers as they stood around the fire. 

Don Estevan and the Senator now called before them the two intrepidhunters, who had rendered them a service that fully deserved theirthanks. 

"Come hither, brave hunters!" said the Senator, "you, whose daringbehaviour has been of such service to us. A slice of roast mutton and acup of Catalonian wine will not be out of place, after the rude struggleyou have sustained. "

"Ugh!" said the eldest of the trappers, in presenting his athletic formin front of the fire, "throwing a couple of poor tigers is no greatfeat. If it had been an affair of a dozen Comanches, or Pawnees, thatwould have been different. Howsomever, a chunk of roast mutton iswelcome after a fight, as well as before one, and we're ready for itwith your permission. Come along, comrade! Here's some chawing foryou!"

"And you, young man, " continued Don Estevan, addressing himself toTiburcio, who stood at some distance apart, "you will also partake ofour hospitality?"

Tiburcio by a sign accepted the invitation, and approached the fire. For the first time his countenance came fairly under the light; and asit did so, the eyes of the Spaniard seemed to devour him with theirregard. In truth the physiognomy of Tiburcio Arellanos was of noordinary character, and would have merited observation from one lessinterested in examining it than was Don Estevan Arechiza. 

An aquiline nose, black eyes with thick dark eyebrows and long lashes, and olive complexion--that appeared almost white in contrast with thejetty blackness of his beard--but above all, the extreme contraction ofa thin upper lip, indicated the countenance of a man of quick resolvesand fiery passions. A shade of tranquil melancholy over these featuresto some extent tempered their half-fierce expression. 

The hair was of a chestnut brown colour, and hung in luxuriant curlsover a forehead large and of noble outline. Broad shoulders andwell-developed limbs denoted a man of European vigour, whose personalstrength would be equal, if occasion required it, to the execution ofthose passionate designs nourished under the tropical skies of SpanishAmerica. 

Tiburcio Arellanos was in truth the type of a noble and ancient race, transplanted into a country still less than half civilised. 

"The very form and bearing of Don Juan de Mediana!" muttered Don Estevanto himself, more than half convinced that the young man before his eyeswas the son of him whose name he had pronounced. No one could have readhis suspicions, hidden under the mask of perfect calmness. 

There was one other man in that group who was struck by the aspect ofTiburcio. This was the big trapper, who on first sight of the youngman's face under the light of the fire started and closed his eyes, asif lightning had flashed before them. He was about to rush forward, when a second look seemed to convince him he had made a mistake; andsmiling at his having done so, he kept his place. His eyes thenwandered around the group of faces that encircled the fire, with thatscrutinising glance, that showed a capacity for reading the charactersof men in their looks. 

Having finished this scrutiny, he called out to his companion, who hadnot yet got forward:--

"Come along, partner; or people will say you are ashamed to showyourself. Prove to these gentlemen that you know how to enjoy life likeother folk. "

"O certainly--I am coming--all right, comrade. "

And the next moment the younger trapper made his appearance within thecircle of light. 

An odd-looking object he appeared, with his huge fur cap upon his head, drawn down in front, so as to cover his eyes, and an old striped cottonhandkerchief fastened over his face and throat, in such a manner as toconceal the scar made by the claws of the tiger. With the cap andkerchief, the greater portion of his countenance was masked, leavingvisible only his mouth, with a double row of grand teeth, that promisedto perform their part upon the roast mutton. 

Having reached the fire, he sat down with his back to it--so that hishalf-masked face was still further concealed in shadow--and beingsupplied, as well as his comrade, with a large cut from the joint, he atonce set about satisfying the appetite of hunger. 

"Are there many men of your size and strength where you come from?"inquired the Senator, addressing himself to the largest of the twohunters. 

"In Canada, " answered the latter, "I should not be remarked amongothers; ask my comrade there!"

"He speaks true, " grumbled the other. 

"But you are not both from the same country?" said Tragaduros. 

"No--my comrade is a native of--"

"Of New York State, " hastily interposed the younger of the twotrappers--a reply which astonished the Canadian, but which he refrainedfrom contradicting. 

"And what is your calling?" continued the Senator, interrogatively. 

"_Coureurs des bois_, wood-rangers, " answered the Canadian. "That is tosay, we pass our time in ranging the woods, with no other object than toavoid being shut up in towns. Alas! it is a profession likely soon tocome to an end; and when we two are gone, the race of wood-rangers willrun out in America, since neither of us has any sons to carry on thebusiness of their father. "

There was a tone of melancholy in the last words of the trapper's speechthat contrasted strangely with his rude manner: something that seemed toevince a certain degree of regret. Don Estevan, noticing this, nowentered into the conversation. 

"I fear it is a poor business you follow, my brave fellows! But if youfeel inclined to leave it off for a while, and take a part in anexpedition that we are about to set on foot, I can promise to fill yourcaps with gold dust. What say you?"

"No!" brusquely responded the younger of the trappers. 

"Each to his own business, " added the Canadian. "We are notgold-seekers. We love to range freely where we please, without leader, and without being controlled by any one--in a word, free as the sun orthe prairie breeze. "

These answers were given in a tone so firm and peremptory that theSpaniard saw it would be of no use combating a resolution which wasevidently not to be shaken, and therefore he declined to make anyfurther offers. 

Supper was soon over, and each of the travellers set about makinghimself as comfortable as possible for the remainder of the night. 

In a short time all, with the exception of Tiburcio, were asleep. ButTiburcio was yet a mere youth, an orphan, who had lately lost a motherfor whom he had a profound affection; and above all, Tiburcio was inlove--three reasons why he could not sleep. A deep sadness hadpossession of his spirits. He felt himself in an exceptionalsituation--his past was equally mysterious with his future. 

"Oh, my mother! my mother!" murmured he, despairingly, to himself, "whydid you not tell me who I am!"

And as he said this he appeared to listen--as if the breeze, sighingthrough the leaves, would give a response to his interrogation. Littlethought he at the moment that one of those men, lying near him under thelight of the moon, could have given the desired answer--could have toldhim the name which he ought to hear. 

Nevertheless, on her death-bed, the widow of Marcos Arellanos hadrevealed to him a secret--perhaps almost as interesting as that of hisbirth and parentage. 

The secret of the Golden Valley, which had been made known to Tiburcio, had opened his eyes to a world of pleasant dreams. A prospect whichhitherto had appeared to him only as a chimerical vision was now viewedby him in the light of a reality. A gulf that before seemed impassablewas now bridged over as if by the hand of some powerful fairy. 

Gold can work such miracles. Had he not in prospect the possession of arich placer? Would not that enable him to overcome all obstacles bothof the past and the future? Might he not, by the puissance of gold, discover who were his real parents? and by the same means, might he notrealise that sweeter dream that had now for two years held possession ofhis heart?

As he lay upon the ground, kept awake by these hopeful reflections, avision was passing before his mind's eye. It was a scene in which weremany figures. A gentleman of rich apparel--a young girl his daughter--atrain of servants all affrighted and in confusion. They have lost theirway in the middle of the forest, and are unable to extricate themselvesfrom the labyrinth of llianas and thickets that surround them. A guideappears in the presence of a young hunter, who engages to conduct themto the place whither they wish to go. That guide is Tiburcio himself, who in his reverie--as in the real scene that occurred just two yearsbefore--scarce observes either the gentleman in rich apparel nor theattendants that surround him, but only remembers the beautiful dark eyesand raven hair of the young girl. Tiburcio reassures them of safety, guides them, during a journey of two days--two days that appeared to himto pass only too rapidly. 

In his waking dream one scene is forcibly recalled. He remembers anight halt in the woods. All were asleep around him--the attendantsupon the grass--the rich gentleman upon his cloak, and the young girlupon the skin of a jaguar which the guide himself had supplied. Healone remained awake. The moon was shining upon all; and a deliciousperfume from the blossoms of the sweet sassafras trees that grew nearwas wafted toward them upon the gentle breeze. The blue heaven aboveappeared in perfect harmony with the tranquil scene below. The guide, with admiring eyes, looked upon that lovely virgin form and listened tothe soft breathing of that innocent bosom. To him it was a moment ofdelicious anguish. .. 

Then the vision changed--the young girl at length reached her home, andentered the grand dwelling of her father. There the guide remained awhole week a welcome guest--drunk with love yet not daring to raise hiseyes to the object of his passion. 

Afterwards, too, at the festivals of the neighbouring villages, ahundred times had he gazed upon her; but what of that? he was only apoor _gambusino_, and she the daughter of the richest proprietor in theprovince!

But now--with the secret of the Golden Valley--Tiburcio suddenly sawhimself powerful and rich; hope had sprung up within his bosom; andamidst the reverie occasioned by these delightful thoughts, he at lastfell asleep. 

It is scarce necessary to add that the young girl who recalled thesesweet souvenirs, and who was now mingling in his dreams, was thedaughter of Don Augustin Pena, the proprietor of the Hacienda delVenado. 

At daybreak the sleepers were awakened by the ringing of a bell and theclatter of hoofs. It was the _cavallada_ returning to camp, under thecharge of Benito, who had thus kept his promise. The travellers weresoon upon their feet, but it was soon perceived that the two trapperswere not amongst them. These had gone away without any one havingobserved their departure!

The horses being saddled and bridled and the mules packed, the cavalcadecontinued its journey towards the hacienda--Don Estevan and the Senator, as before, riding in front. 

It was after sunset before the walls of the hacienda were descried inthe distance, already assuming a sombre hue under the fast increasingobscurity of the twilight. But through the wide forest tract whichsurrounded the hacienda a well-defined road led in the direction of thedwelling, which the travellers could follow even in the darkest night, and upon this road the cavalcade was now seen to enter. 

A few minutes before they had passed into the forest from the open plaintwo men were seen standing near the edge of a thicket, by which theywere hidden from the view of the travellers. These men might have beeneasily recognised by their long rifles as strangers to that part of thecountry; they were, in fact, the two trappers, the Canadian and hiscomrade, who had that morning so abruptly taken leave of the camp. 

"You must have been deceived by some accidental resemblance, " said theCanadian to his companion. 

"No, " replied the latter; "I am sure it is he. Twenty years have notmade much change either in his face or figure. His voice is just thesame as it was when I was the coast-guard, Pepe the Sleeper. My eyesand ears are as good as they were then, and I assure you, Bois-Rose, that he's the very man. "

"Strange enough, " answered Bois-Rose (for the great Canadian trapper wasno other than Bois-Rose himself). "After all, one is more likely tomeet an enemy he is in search of than a friend. It may be the same. "

As he finished this speech, the Canadian, leaning upon his long rifle, stood looking after the cavalcade, which was just disappearing into theforest road that led to the hacienda. 

After remaining a few minutes in this position, the two trappers turnedback again into the forest, and soon disappeared under the shadows ofthe trees. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

THE HACIENDA DEL VENADO. 

The Hacienda del Venado--like all buildings of this kind situated uponthe Indian frontier, and of course exposed to the attacks of thesavages--was a species of citadel, as well as a country dwelling-house. Built with sun-dried bricks and hewn stone, crowned by a crenelledparapet, and defended by huge, massive doors, it could have sustained asiege from an enemy more expert in strategy than the tribe of Apacheswho were its neighbours. 

At one corner stood a tower of moderate height, which crowned the chapelbelonging to the hacienda, serving for the great clock as well as for abelfry. In case the principal part of the building should be forced, this tower would answer for an asylum almost impregnable. 

Finally, a strong stockade composed of trunks of the _palmetto_, completely encircled the building; within which enclosure were thequarters destined for the domestics of the hacienda--as also for theherdsmen, and such ordinary guests as from time to time came to seek apassing hospitality. Outside this privileged enclosure was a group offrom twenty to thirty huts, composing a species of little village. These were inhabited by the day-labourers (peons) and their familiesattached to the hacienda--who, in case of danger, would escape withinthe enclosure for safety and protection. 

Such was the Hacienda del Venado. The proprietor, Don Augustin Pena, was a man of great opulence. In addition to a rich gold mine which heworked, at no great distance off, he was the owner of countless herds ofhorses, mules, and cattle, that in a half-wild state roamed over thevast savannahs and forests that constituted the twenty leagues of landbelonging to the hacienda. Such a vast tract of territory belonging toone man is by no means a rare thing in northern Mexico. 

At this time Don Augustin was a widower, and his family consisted ofonly one daughter--the young girl already introduced to the reader. Considering the immense heritage that the Dona Rosario--or, as she wasmore gracefully called, Rosarita--was likely to bring to whoever shouldbecome her husband, it was natural that an alliance with Don Augustinshould be the object of many an ambition; in fact her beauty without thegrand fortune--which, at her father's death, she was to become mistressof--would of itself have been enough to have challenged a crowd ofpretenders to her hand. 

The Andalusian type has lost nothing in the northern provinces ofMexico. Its purity of outline is there associated with freshness ofcolour, and this happy mixture of graces was exhibited in the beautifulcountenance of Rosarita. We have described her with black eyes and hairof raven hue; but hers was a beauty that words can but faintly portray, and about which all description would be superfluous. 

And this lovely creature bloomed in the very midst of the desert, likethe flower of the cactus which blossoms and fades under the eye of Godalone. 

The immense plain in the midst of which stood the Hacienda del Venadopresented a double aspect. In front of the house only did the groundshow any traces of cultivation. On that side fields of Indian corn andvast olive plantations denoted the presence and skilful labour of man. 

Behind the hacienda--at some hundred paces distance from the stockade--the clearing ended, and thence extended the virgin forest in all itssombre and primitive majesty. 

The cultivated ground was intersected by a considerable stream of water. During the dry season it ran gently and silently along, but in theseason of rain it would suddenly change into an impetuous torrent thatinundated the whole plain, bearing huge rocks along in its current, andevery year widening its channel. 

Perhaps the most powerful of Arab chiefs, the richest patriarch ofancient times, never counted such superb and numerous herds as roamedover the pasturage of the Hacienda del Venado. 

About an hour before sunset--on that same day on which the travellersdeparted from La Poza--two men, one on horseback, the other mounted on amule, were seen traversing the plain in the direction of the hacienda. Both horse and mule were each a splendid specimen of his kind--the horsewith fiery eye, broad chest, and curving, swan-like neck, was scarcemore to be admired than the mule, that with fine, delicate limbs, rounded flanks, and shining coat, walked side by side with him. 

This horseman was the master of the hacienda, Don Augustin Pena. Hiscostume consisted of a hat of Guayaquil grass, a shirt of the finestcambric, an embroidered vest, and silk velvet pantaloons fastened downthe sides with large buttons of gold. 

His companion, the rider of the mule, was the chaplain of the hacienda, a reverend Franciscan monk in a sort of half convent costume. Thisconsisted of an ample blue frock confined around the waist with a thickcord of silk, the tassels of which hung down below his knees. Beneaththis appeared a pair of large riding-boots heavily spurred. Upon hishead a grey beaver, somewhat jauntily set, gave to the Franciscan anappearance rather soldier-like than monastic. 

The haciendado appeared to be regarding with a look of pride his richpossessions--extending beyond view on every side of him--as if he wasreflecting how much this kind of wealth was superior to golden ingotsshut idly in a chest; while the monk seemed to be absorbed in someprofound reverie. 

"By Saint Julian! the patron saint of travellers!" said Don Augustin, breaking silence, "you have been more than twenty-four hours absent! Iwas afraid, reverend father, that some jaguar had swallowed both you andyour mule. "

"Man proposes, and God disposes, " replied the monk. "When I took mydeparture from the hacienda, I did not except to be gone more than a fewhours--giving Christian burial to poor Joaquin, that had been killed byone of the bulls--but just as I had blessed the earth where they hadburied him, a young man came galloping up like a thunderbolt, bothhimself and horse all of a sweat, to beg that I would go along with himand confess his mother who was upon her death-bed. Only ten leagues hesaid it was, and I should have been glad for a pretext to get off fromsuch a difficult turn of duty; but at the earnest entreaty of the youngfellow, and knowing who he was, I could not refuse him. Who do youthink he was?"

"How should I know?" replied the haciendado. 

"Tiburcio, the adopted son of the famous gambusino, Marcos Arellanos. "

"How! his mother dead! I am sorry. He is a brave youth, and I have notforgotten the service he once did me. But for him we should all havebeen dead of thirst, my daughter, my people, and myself. If he is leftwithout resources, I hope you have said to him that he will find awelcome at the Hacienda del Venado. "

"No--I have not, " replied the monk. 

"And why?"

"Because this young fellow is desperately in love with your daughter; itis my duty to tell you so. "

"What signifies that, so long as my daughter does not love him?" repliedDon Augustin. "And if she did, where would she find a man possessinghigher physical or moral qualities than this same Tiburcio? I neverdreamt of having for my son-in-law any other than an intelligent man, brave enough to defend the frontier against these hordes of savageIndians, and just such a man is young Arellanos. But in truth I forgetmyself; I have this day designed for Rosarita a husband of a moreexalted station. "

"And it may be that you have done wrong, " rejoined the monk, in aserious tone; "from what I suspect--in fact, what I may say I know--thisTiburcio might make a more valuable son-in-law than you imagine. "

"It's too late then, " said Don Augustin. "I have given my word, and Icannot retract it. "

"It is just about this matter I wish to speak to you, if you have timeto hear me. "

At this moment the two horsemen, having passed the stockade, had arrivedat the foot of the stone stairway--which led up to the portico, andthence into the grand sala of the hacienda--and while dismounting, theirdialogue was interrupted. 

This sala was a large room, which, according to the practice in hotcountries, was so arranged as to be continually kept cool by a currentof air passing lengthwise through its whole extent. Fine Chinese matscovered the floor, while richly painted window-blinds prevented the raysof the sun from entering the apartment. The walls, whitened withstucco, were adorned with rare illuminated paintings set in gold frames, some leathern chairs called _butacas_, several side tables--upon one ofwhich stood a silver brazero filled with red cinders of charcoal--these, with a _fauteuil_ or two, and a mahogany couch of Anglo-Americanmanufacture, completed the furniture of the apartment. 

Upon a table of polished balsam-wood stood several porous jarscontaining water; beside them, on a large silver waiter, wereconfections of several kinds; while heaped upon other dishes, also ofsolid silver, were fruits both of the tropic and temperate climes--oranges, granadillas, limes, and pitayas, here brought together to temptthe appetite or assuage the thirst. 

The appearance of these preparations denoted that Don Augustin expectedcompany. As soon as they had entered within the sala, the monk, observing the well garnished tables, inquired if such was the case. 

"Yes, " answered the haciendado, "Don Estevan de Arechiza has sent meword that he will arrive this evening with a somewhat numerous train, and I have taken measures to entertain a guest of such importance. Butyou say you wish to speak to me about some business--what is it, FriarJose Maria?"

The two now sat down, each choosing an easy-chair, and while DonAugustin was lighting a cigar the monk commenced speaking as follows:

"I found the old woman seated upon a bank outside the door of her hut, whither she had dragged herself to look out for my arrival. `Bless you, good father!' said she, `you have arrived in time to receive my lastconfession. But while you rest a little, I wish you to listen to what Iam going to say to him whom I have always treated as my own child, andto whom I intend to leave a legacy of vengeance. '"

"What! holy father!" interrupted Don Augustin, "surely you did notpermit this infraction of God's law, who says, _vengeance belongs onlyto Him_?"

"Why not?" replied the monk. "In these deserts, where neither laws nortribunals exist, every man must be his own avenger. "

With this strange apology for his conduct, the monk continued:

"I sat down and listened to what she had to say to this adopted son. Itwas this:--`Your father was _not_ killed by the Indians, as we were ledto believe. It was his companion who murdered him--for the purpose ofbeing the sole possessor of a secret, which I shall presently disclose--but to you only, Marcos. '

"`God alone knows who this man was, ' said Tiburcio, `he alone knowshim. '

"`He only!' cried the dying woman, with an air of disdain. `Is this thelanguage of a man? When the Indians come to steal his cattle from thevaquero, does he sit still and say: _God only can prevent them_? No!--with his eye bent, and his hand ready, he follows upon their traces, till he has recovered his herds, or perished in the attempt. Go you anddo as the vaquero! Track out the assassin of your father. That is thelast wish of her who nourished you, and has never failed in heraffection. '

"`I shall obey you, my mother, ' answered the young man, in a firm voice. 

"`Listen, then, to what I have got to say!' continued the widow. `Themurder of Arellanos is no longer a supposition, but a reality. I haveit from a herdsman who came from the country beyond Tubac. Some daysbefore, he had met two travellers. One was your father Marcos; theother was a stranger to him. The herdsman was travelling on the sameroute, and followed them at some distance behind. At a place wherecertain signs showed that the two travellers had made their bivouac, theherdsman had found the traces of a terrible struggle. The grass wasbent down, and saturated with blood. There were tracks of blood leadingto a precipice that hung over a stream of water; and most likely overthis the victim was precipitated. This victim must have been Marcos;for the herdsman was able to follow the trail of the murderer by thetracks of his horse; and a little further on he noticed where the horsehad stumbled on the left fore-leg. The assassin himself must have beenwounded in the struggle, for the herdsman could tell by his tracksleading to the precipice that he had limped on one leg. '"

Don Augustin listened with attention to this account--proving thewonderful sagacity of his countrymen, of which he had almost every daysome new proof. The monk went on with his narration. 

"`Swear then, Tiburcio, to avenge your father!' continued the dyingwoman. `Swear it, and I promise to make you as rich as the proudest inthe land; rich enough to bend to your wishes the most powerful--even thedaughter of Augustin Pena, for whom your passion has not escaped me. This day you may aspire to her hand without being deemed foolish; for Itell you, you are as rich as her own father. Swear, then, to pursue tothe death the murderer of Arellanos?'

"`I swear it, ' rejoined Tiburcio, with a solemn gesture. 

"Upon this, the dying woman placed in the hands of the young man a pieceof paper, upon which Arellanos, before leaving his home for the lasttime, had traced the route of his intended journey. 

"`With the treasure which that paper will enable you to find, ' continuedthe dying woman, `you will have gold enough to corrupt the daughter of aviceroy, if you wish it. Meanwhile, my child, leave me for a while toconfess to this holy man: a son should not always hear the confession ofhis mother. '"

The monk, in a few more words, related the closing scene of the widow'sdeath, and then finished by saying:--

"Now, Don Augustin, you perceive my reason for saying that this youngfellow, whatever may be his family, is not the less likely to make agood match for the Dona Rosarita. "

"I agree with you, " responded the haciendado; "but, as I have said toyou, my word is given to Don Estevan de Arechiza. "

"What!" exclaimed the monk, "this Spaniard to be your son-in-law!"

Don Augustin smiled mysteriously as he replied:--

"He! no, good Fray Jose, not he, but another. Don Estevan does not wishthis alliance. "

"Caspita!" exclaimed the monk. "Does he think it beneath him?"

"It may be he has the right to think so, " added Don Augustin, againsmiling mysteriously. 

"But who is this man?" inquired the monk, with an air of surprise. 

Just as Don Augustin was about to reply, a servant entered the _sala_. 

"Senor Don Augustin, " said the servant, "there are two travellers at thegate, who beg of you to give them a night's lodging. One of them saysthat he is known to you. "

"Bid them welcome!" replied the haciendado, "and let them enter. Whether they are known to me or not, two guests more or less will benothing here. "

A few seconds after, the two travellers had advanced to the foot of thestone stairway, where they stood awaiting the presence of the master ofthe house. 

One of them was a man of about thirty years of age--whose opencountenance and high forehead denoted courage, combined withintelligence. His figure presented an appearance of strength andvigorous activity, and he was somewhat elegantly dressed--though withoutany signs of foppery. 

"Ah! is it you, Pedro Diaz?" cried Don Augustin, recognising him. "Arethere any Indians to be exterminated, since I find you coming into thesesolitudes of ours?"

Pedro Diaz was, in truth, known as the most celebrated hater and hunterof Indians in the whole province--hence the strange salutation withwhich Don Augustin received him. 

"Before answering you, Senor Don Augustin, permit me to introduce to youthe king of _gambusinos_ and prince of musicians, the Senor Don DiegoOroche, who scents a placer of gold as a hound would a deer, and whoplays upon the mandolin as only he can play. "

The individual presented under the name of Oroche, solemnly saluted thehaciendado. 

It must have been a long time since the prince of gambusinos had foundan opportunity to exercise the subtle talent of which his companionspoke--or else the cards had been of late unlucky--for his outward manpresented an appearance that was scarcely more than comfortable. 

In reaching his hand to his hat, it was not necessary for him todisarrange the folds of his cloak. It only required that he shouldchoose one of the numerous rents that appeared in this garment, to passthrough it his long-clawed fingers--whose length and thinness denotedhim a player on the mandolin. In reality, he carried one of theseinstruments slung over his shoulders. 

Don Augustin invited both Diaz and his singular companion to enter. When they were seated in the saloon Diaz began the conversation. 

"We have heard, " said he, "of an expedition being got up at Arispe toproceed to _Apacheria_; and this gentleman and I are on our way to takepart in it. Your hacienda, Senor Don Augustin, chanced to lie in ourway, and we have entered to ask your permission to lodge here for thenight. By daybreak we shall continue our route for Arispe. "

"You will not have to go so far, " replied Don Augustin, with a smile. "The expedition is already on foot, and I expect the leader of it herethis very night. He will be glad of your services, I guarantee you, andit will save you several days' journey. "

"A miracle in our favour!" exclaimed Diaz; "and I thank God for thelucky coincidence. "

"The thirst of gold has caught you also, Pedro Diaz?" asked DonAugustin, smiling significantly. 

"No, thank God!" replied Diaz, "nothing of the sort. Heave thesearching for gold to experienced gambusinos, such as the Senor Orochehere. No--you know well that I have no other passion than hatred forthe ferocious savages who have done so much ill towards me and mine. Itis only because I hope through this expedition once more to carry steeland fire into their midst, that I take any part in it. "

"It is right, " said the haciendado, who like all dwellers upon thefrontiers exposed to Indian incursions, nourished in his heart a hatredfor the savages almost equal to that of Diaz himself. "I approve ofyour sentiments, Don Pedro Diaz; and if you will permit me to offer youa gage of mine, I beg you will accept from me the present of a horse Ihave--one that will carry you to your satisfaction. I promise you thatthe Indian you pursue, while on his back, will require to go as fast asthe wind itself, if you do not overtake him. "

"He shall be my war-horse, " exclaimed Diaz, his eyes sparkling withpleasure at the gift. "I shall ornament his crest with Indian scalps, in honour of him who gave him to me. "

"I cannot divine what has delayed Don Estevan, " said the haciendado, changing the subject of conversation. "He should have been here threehours before this, that is, if he passed the night at La Poza. "

Don Augustin had scarce finished his speech when a sudden and gracefulapparition glided into the saloon. It was his daughter, the beautifulRosarita. 

As if the expected cavalcade only awaited her presence, the clatteringof hoofs at the same instant was heard outside; and by the light of thetorches which the domestics had carried out, Don Estevan and his suitecould be seen riding up to the entrance of the hacienda. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

ROSARITA. 

On the route from La Poza it had fallen to the lot of Cuchillo andTiburcio to ride side by side, but for all this few words had passedbetween them. Although Cuchillo had not the slightest idea ofrenouncing his dire design, he continued to hide his thoughts under anair of good-humour--which when need be he knew how to assume. He hadmade several attempts to read the thoughts of the young gambusino, butthe latter was on his guard, seeking in his turn to identify Cuchillowith the assassin of his father. No opportunity offered, however; andin this game of mutual espionage, neither had the advantage. Nevertheless, an instinctive and mutual hatred became establishedbetween the two, and before the day's journey was over, each regardedthe other as a mortal foe. Cuchillo was more than ever determined toexecute his hellish purpose--since a crime less or more would be nothingto him--while Tiburcio, keenly remembering the oath which he had made tohis adopted mother, was resolved on keeping it, and only awaited thetime when he should be sure of the assassin. We need scarcely add thatTiburcio in the accomplishment of his vow, had no thought of playing theassassin. No. Whenever and wherever the murderer should be found, hewas to die by Tiburcio's hand; but only in fair and open fight. 

But there were other painful reflections that occupied Tiburcio's mindduring the journey. The nearer he approached the object of his love thegreater seemed to be the distance between them. Though a man may hopeto obtain what he only wishes for in a moderate way, yet when anythingis ardently yearned after, the obstacles appear insurmountable. Hencethe secret of many a heroic resolution. When Tiburcio was reclining bythe well of La Poza, his sweet dream hindered him from thinking of theseobstacles; but now that the journey was nearly ended, and he drew nearto the grand hacienda, his spirits fell, and a feeling of hopelessnesstook possession of his soul. Hence it was that he formed the resolutionto put an end to the painful suspense which he had now a long timeendured; and that very night, if possible, he intended to ascertain hisposition in the eyes of Dona Rosarita. Come what might, he resolved toask that question, whose answer might render him at once the happiest orthe most miserable of men. 

When Tiburcio had first met Dona Rosarita, with her father and hisservants, in the depth of the forest, he knew nothing of the rank of theparty thus wandering astray. Even during the two happy days in which heacted as their guide, he was ignorant of the name of the beautiful younggirl, to whom his eyes and his heart rendered a continual homage. Hetherefore permitted himself to indulge in those pleasant dreams whichhave their origin in a hopeful love. It was only after he had learnedthe quality of his fellow-travellers--that the young lady was thedaughter of the opulent proprietor, Don Augustin Pena--it was only onascertaining this that Tiburcio perceived the folly of his aspirations, and the distance that lay between him and the object of his love. Ifthen the secret, so unexpectedly revealed to him, had given him a desirefor the possession of riches, it was not for the sake of being rich. No; a nobler object inspired him--one more in keeping with his poeticcharacter. He desired riches only that with them he might bridge overthe chasm that separated him from Rosarita. 

Unhappily he could not hide from himself the too evident fact that hewas not the sole possessor of the secret. 

All at once it occurred to him that the expedition to which he foundhimself thus accidentally attached could have no other object than thisvery placer of the Golden Valley. Most likely the very man who sharedthe secret with him--the murderer of Marcos Arellanos--was among the menenrolled under the orders of the chief Don Estevan. The ambiguousquestioning of Cuchillo, his comprehension of events, the stumbling ofhis horse, with other slighter indications, appeared to throw some lightupon the obscurity of Tiburcio's conjectures; but not enough. How washe (Tiburcio) to arrive at a complete understanding?

A still more painful uncertainty pressed upon his spirit, as theyapproached the dwelling of Don Augustin. What reception would he meetwith from Dona Rosarita? he, a poor gambusino--without resources, without family--poorly dressed even--a mere follower, confounded withthe common mob of adventurers who composed the expedition? Sadpresentiments were passing in his mind, as the cavalcade of which heformed so humble an appendage arrived at the palisade enclosure of thehacienda. 

The gates were soon open to receive them; and the moment after DonAugustin himself welcomed the travellers at the front entrance of themansion. With that ease and elegance, almost peculiar to Spanishmanners, he received Don Estevan and the Senator, while the cordialitywith which he welcomed Tiburcio appeared to the young man a happy omen. 

The travellers all dismounted. Cuchillo remained outside--partly out ofrespect to his chief and partly to look after his horse. As toTiburcio, he had not the same motives for acting thus, and thereforeentered along with Don Estevan and Tragaduros, his face pale and hisheart beating audibly. 

The room into which they had been shown was the grand sala alreadydescribed, and in which certain preparations had been made for amagnificent banquet. But Tiburcio saw nothing of all this. His eyesbeheld only one object--for there stood a beautiful girl whose lipsrendered paler the carnation red of the granadillas, and the hue ofwhose cheeks eclipsed the rosy tint of the _sandias_, scatteredprofusely over the tables. It was Rosarita herself. A silken scarfcovered her head, permitting the thick plaits of her dark hair to shinethrough its translucent texture, and just encircling the outline of heroval face. This scarf, hanging down below the waist, but half concealedher white rounded arms, and only partially hindered the view of a figureof the most elegantly voluptuous tournure. Around her waist anotherscarf of bright scarlet formed a sort of cincture or belt, leaving itslong fringed ends to hang over the skirt of her silken robe, andblending its colours with those of the light veil that fell down fromher shoulders. It was a costume that seemed well-suited to her strikingbeauty, and the effect of the _coup d'oeil_ upon the heart of poorTiburcio was at once pleasant and embarrassing. 

Notwithstanding the gracious smile with which she acknowledged hispresence, there was a certain hauteur about the proffered welcome--as ifit was a mere expression of gratitude for the service he had formerlyrendered. 

Tiburcio observed this with a feeling of chagrin, and sighed as hecontrasted her cold formality of speech with the abandon and freedom oftheir former relations. But he could not help noticing a still greatercontrast when he looked at his own poor garments and compared them withthe elegant costumes of his two travelling companions. 

While Don Estevan was entertaining his host with some account of whathad happened on their journey, the Senator appeared to have eyes onlyfor the beautiful Rosarita--upon whom he was not slow in lavishing astring of empty compliments. 

The young girl appeared to Tiburcio to receive these compliments with asmile very different from that she had accorded to himself; he alsoobserved, with a feeling of bitterness, the superior easiness of mannerin which those whom he regarded as his rivals addressed themselves toher. With anguish he noticed the colour become more vivid upon hercheeks; while the heaving of her bosom, as the scarf rose and fell inregular vibrations, did not escape the keen glance of jealousy. In factthe young girl appeared to receive pleasure from these gallantries, likea village belle who listens to the flatteries of some grand lord, at thesame time that a voice from within whispers her that the sweetcompliments she is receiving are also merited. 

Don Estevan was not unobservant of this by-play that was passing aroundhim. He easily read in the expressive looks of Tiburcio the secret ofhis heart, and involuntarily contrasted the manly beauty of the youngman with the ordinary face and figure of the Senator. As if from thishe apprehended some obstacles to his secret projects, more than once hisdark eyebrows became contracted, and his eyes shone with a sombre fire. 

By little and little he ceased to take part in the conversation, and atlength appeared wrapped in a profound meditation. Insensibly also anair of melancholy stole over the features of Rosarita. As for DonAugustin and the Senator they appeared at once to be on good terms witheach other, and carried on the conversation without permitting it toflag for a moment. 

Just then Cuchillo, accompanied by Baraja, entered to pay their respectsto the master of the hacienda. Their entrance within the sala of coursecreated some slight disarrangement in the tableaux of the _dramatispersonal_ already there. This confusion gave Tiburcio an opportunity tocarry out a desperate resolution he had formed, and profiting by it, headvanced nearer to Rosarita. 

"I will give my life, " said he to her, in a side whisper, "for onemoment alone with you. I wish to speak of an affair of the highestimportance. "

The young girl regarded him for a moment with an air of astonishment, further expressed by a disdainful movement of the lip; although, considering their former relations, and also the free familiarity ofMexican manners, she might have been expected to have excused hisfreedom. Tiburcio stood waiting her reply in a supplicating attitude, and as everything seemed spontaneous with her, he had not long to wait. She answered in a few words:

"To-night then--at ten o'clock I shall be at my window. "

Scarcely had the thrilling tones of her voice ceased to vibrate on theear of Tiburcio, when supper was announced, and the guests were showninto another room. Here a table, splendidly set out, occupied themiddle of the apartment, above which hung a great chandelier fitted withnumerous waxen candles: these gave out a brilliant and cheerful light, that was reflected from hundreds of shining vessels of massive silver ofantique forms, arranged upon the table below. 

The upper end of the table was occupied by the host himself and hisprincipal guests. His daughter sat on his left hand, while Don Estevanwas placed upon the right. After them, the Senator and the chaplain, and Pedro Diaz. At the lower end were seated Tiburcio, Cuchillo, Barajaand Oroche. 

The chaplain pronounced the _benedicite_. Although it was no longer thesame jumbling formula, _sans facon_, which he had used at the death-bedof the widow of Arellanos, yet the air of mock solemnity and unctionwith which the grace was uttered, recalled to the heart of Tiburcio thatsad souvenir, which recent events had for a time caused him to forget. 

Cheerfulness soon reigned around the table. The expedition was talkedof, and toasts drunk to its success. Vast silver goblets of antiqueshape were used for wine glasses, and these, passing rapidly from handto mouth, soon produced an abundance of good-humour among the guests. 

"Gentlemen!" said Don Augustin, when the festive scene was near its end, "before retiring I have the honour to invite you all to a hunt of thewild horse on my estate--which is to come off early in the morning. "

Each of the guests accepted the invitation, with that _abandon_ naturalto people who have made a good supper. 

With regard to Tiburcio, jealousy was devouring him. He scarce ate ofthe rich viands placed before him. He kept his eyes constantly fixedupon Don Estevan, who, during the supper appeared to pay markedattentions to Rosarita, and for every one of which Tiburcio thanked himwith a look of hatred. As soon as the supper was ended, the young mansilently left the room and repaired to the chamber that had beenassigned to him for the night. 

At an early hour--for such was the custom of the hacienda--all theguests had retired to their sleeping apartments--even the domestics wereno longer to be seen in the great hall; and a profound silence reignedthroughout the vast building, as if all the world had gone to rest. Butall the world was not yet asleep. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

THE ASSIGNATION. 

Alone in his chamber, Tiburcio awaited impatiently the hour named byRosarita. From his window he cast a distracted glance over the plainthat stretched away from the walls of the hacienda. The moon was up inthe heavens, and the road leading to Tubac appeared under her lightshining like a vast ribbon extended through the middle of the forest. The forest itself appeared asleep; not even a breath stirred the leavesof the trees, and the only sounds he heard were those caused by thehalf-wild herds that wandered through its glades. Now and then thebellowing of a bull denoted the uneasiness of the animal--perhaps fromthe presence of those terrible night robbers, the puma and jaguar. There was one other sound that reached the ear of Tiburcio, but thisappeared to proceed from some part of the hacienda itself. It was thetinkling of a mandolin. The hour was appropriate to amorousreflections, as well as to thoughts of a graver character, and bothpresented themselves at that moment to the spirit of Tiburcio. Like allthose whose life has been passed amid the depths of the desert, therewas at the bottom of his heart a certain poetic temperament, at the sametime that his soul exhibited that energetic vigour required by thedangers which surround such a life of solitude. His present positionthen was perfectly appropriate to this double character. His love wasunreciprocated--the coolness of Rosarita, almost assured him of thepainful fact--and some secret presentiment told him that he wasencompassed by enemies. 

While thus sadly reflecting on his situation, an object came under hiseyes that attracted his attention. It was the gleam of a fire, whichappeared to be kindled under cover of the forest at no great distancefrom the hacienda. The light was partly eclipsed by that of the moon, but still it could be traced by the greater redness of its rays, as theytrembled mysteriously on the silver foliage of the trees. It denotedthe halting-place of some traveller. 

"So near the hacienda!" muttered Tiburcio, in entering upon a new seriesof reflections. "What can it mean? Why have these travellers not comehere to demand hospitality? They have certainly some reason for keepingthemselves at a distance? They may be unknown friends to me for heavenoften sends such to those who stand in need of them. Cuchillo, DonEstevan, and this pompous Senator, all appear to be my enemies and allare secure under this roof! why might not these travellers, who appearto shun it for that very reason prove friends to me?"

The hour of rendezvous had at length arrived. Tiburcio took up his_serape_ and his knife--the last, the only weapon he had--and preparedto go out from his chamber without making any noise. A fearful conflictof emotions was passing in his bosom; for he knew that in a few minuteswould be decided the question of his happiness or misery. Beforeleaving his chamber, he looked once more through the window in thedirection of the forest fire. It was still gleaming in the same place. 

While the lover, with cautious tread and wildly beating heart, wassilently traversing the long gallery, and passing round to that sideupon which opened the window of Rosarita, other scenes were passingelsewhere that must now be detailed. 

Since his arrival at the hacienda, Don Estevan, in presence of the otherguests, had scarce found an opportunity to speak with the _haciendado_on business that concerned both of them. Only for one moment had theybeen alone; and then the Spaniard had briefly related to Don Augustinthe contract he had entered into with Cuchillo. When Don Estevanmentioned the secret of the Golden Valley, the haciendado appeared tomake a slight gesture, as of disappointment, but their short dialogueended abruptly by a promise to return to the subject at a later hour ofthe night. 

Don Estevan awaited until all the other guests had retired to theirchambers. Then drawing the Senator into the bay of one of the largewindows of the sala, he requested him to look up at the stars that wereshining in all their brilliance in the blue sky above. 

"See!" said he, pointing to a particular constellation. "That is the_Chariot_ that has risen above the eastern horizon. Do you perceive asingle star farther down, which scarce shines through the vapour? Thatis the emblem of _your_ star, which at present pale, to-morrow may be inthe ascendant, and gleam more brightly than any of those that composethe brilliant cortege of the _Chariot_. "

"What mean you, Senor Arechiza?"

"I shall tell you presently. Perhaps the hour is nearer than you thinkwhen you may be the future master of this hacienda, by a marriage withthe charming daughter of its present owner, who is to be its heiress. Come presently to my apartment. The conversation which I am about tohave with Don Augustin must be decisive, and I shall let you know theresult. "

With these words the Spaniard and the Senator parted--the heart of thelatter beating at the same time with hope and fear. 

Don Estevan now awaited the haciendado, who the moment after came up tohim. 

The proprietor of the Hacienda del Venado, as has already been seen, hadgiven to the Spaniard more than an ordinary welcome. His politeness tohim when in presence of witnesses, was even less respectful than whenthe two were alone. On his side Don Estevan appeared to accept thehomage of the other as if it were due to him. There was in his politecondescension towards the rich proprietor, and in the deference of thelatter towards him, something resembling the relation that might besupposed to exist between a powerful sovereign and one of his noblevassals. 

It was not until after reiterated requests--orders they might almost becalled--that Don Augustin consented to be seated in the presence of theother--whereas the Spaniard had flung himself into a _fauteuil_ on themoment of entering the chamber, and with the most perfect abandon. 

The haciendado waited silently for Don Estevan to speak. 

"Well, what do you think of your future son-in-law?" inquired theSpaniard. "I presume you never saw him before?"

"Never, " answered Don Augustin. "But if he was even less favoured bynature than he is, that would make no obstacle to our projects. "

"I know him; he only needs to be known to prove that he has in him thestuff of a gentleman, besides being a senator of the illustriouscongress of Arispe. "

The Spaniard pronounced these words with a slight smile of contempt. 

"But, senor, " continued he, "that is not the difficulty, the importantmatter is whether _your daughter_ will find him to her liking. "

"My daughter will act according to my wish, " said the haciendado. 

"But supposing her heart is not free?"

"The heart of Rosarita is free, Senor Don Estevan; how could it beotherwise--she whose life has been spent in the midst of these deserts?"

"And what about this ragged young fellow, this Tiburcio Arellanos, whomyou appear to know? he is in love with your daughter?"

"I have been made aware of it this very morning. "

"If it is only a few hours, then, since you have been apprised of thesecret of his passion, surely that of your daughter cannot have to thistime escaped you?"

"The truth is, " answered Don Augustin, smiling, "that I understandbetter how to follow the traces of an Indian, and read in thecountenance of a savage his most secret thoughts, than to look into theheart of a young girl. But I repeat it, I have reason to believe thatmy daughter's heart is free of any such affection. I do not apprehendany difficulty in this regard. I dread an obstacle of a more importantcharacter--I mean an obstacle to the expedition you are about to conductinto the desert. "

Here the haciendado communicated to Don Estevan the particulars whichthe monk had gathered at the death-bed of the widow of Arellanos, andwhich seemed to produce a strong impression on the Spaniard; butalthough the conversation continued for some time longer, I shall nothere detail what was said, but return to the Senator, who with anxiousheart was now awaiting Don Estevan in the apartment which had beenassigned to the latter. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

THE DUKE DE ARMADA. 

The chamber set apart for the Senor Don Estevan de Arechiza wasundoubtedly the best in the house; and, notwithstanding the littleprogress that luxury has made in the state of Sonora, was furnished withconsiderable elegance. 

In this chamber Don Estevan found the Senator pacing to and fro, with anair that bespoke him a prey to the most vivid emotions. 

"Well, Senor Don Vicente!" began Arechiza, who appeared to make light ofthe impatience of his _protege_, "what do you think of the daughter ofour host? have I exaggerated her beauty?"

"Oh, my friend!" exclaimed the Senator, with all that vivacity ofpantomimic gesture so characteristic of the South, "the reality farexceeds the imagination. She is an angel! Even in our country, famousfor its beautiful women, Dona Rosarita is certainly loveliest of all. "

"And richest too, " added the Spaniard, with a smile. 

"Who would have expected to find, in the middle of the desert, such anaccomplished beauty? such youthful freshness? Such charms were createdto shine in afar higher sphere?"

"At the court of a king, for instance, " carelessly rejoined Arechiza. 

"Oh! Senor Don Estevan!" again exclaimed the Senator in an earnestvoice, "do not keep me in suspense; the divine, the rich Dona Rosarita--is it possible I am to have her for my wife?"

"One word from me, one promise from you, and the thing is done. I haveher father's word. Within fifteen days you may be the husband of hisdaughter. "

"Agreeable as easy. "

"A little later you will be rich. "

"No harm in that. "

"Later still you will be a grand proprietor. "

"Oh! it is magnificent. Carramba! Senor de Arechiza, it is a perfectcataract of felicities to be lavished upon my head, it is a dream! it isa dream!" shouted the Senator, as he strode to and fro across the floor. 

"Lose no time then in making it a reality, " replied Don Estevan. 

"But is the time so pressing?" inquired the Senator, suddenly pausing inhis steps. 

"Why this question? Is it possible to be too quick in obtaininghappiness?"

The Senator appeared thoughtful, and for a moment presented an aspect ofembarrassment, in strange contrast to his previous looks. He repliedafter a pause--

"The fact is, Don Estevan, I am willing to marry an heiress whosewealth, as is usually the case, would compensate for her ugliness. Inthis case it is the very beauty of the lady that confuses me. "

"Perhaps she does not please you!"

"On the contrary, so much happiness awes me. It appears to me, for areason which I cannot divine, that some sad disappointment lurks underthe seductive prospect. "

"Ah! just as I expected, " answered Don Estevan; "it is the human heart. I knew you would make some objection of this kind, but I thought youwere more a man of the world than to trouble yourself about the pastwith such a splendid fortune before you. Ah! my poor Despilfarro, "added the Spaniard, with a laugh, "I thought you were more advanced. "

"But why, Don Estevan?" inquired the Senator, intending to give a proofof his high diplomatic capacity, --"why is it, _entre nous_, that youdesire to lavish this treasure of beauty--to say nothing of her grandwealth--upon another, while you yourself--"

"While I myself might marry her, " interrupted the Spaniard. "Is thatwhat you mean to say? Suppose I have no wish to get married. I hadthat desire long ago, like the rest of the world. My history has beenlike a great many others; that is, my sweetheart married another. It istrue I adopted the means to re--to console myself, and quickly too, "added Arechiza, with a dark scowl. "But who do you think I am, DonVicente Tragaduros?"

"Who are you! why; Don Estevan de Arechiza, of course!"

"That does honour to your penetration, " said the Spaniard, with adisdainful smile. "Well, then, since I have already demanded the handof Dona Rosarita for the illustrious senator Tragaduros y Despilfarro, of course I cannot now take his place. "

"But why, senor, did you not make the demand on your own account?"

"Why, because, my dear friend, were this young lady three times asbeautiful, and three times as rich as she is, she would neither bebeautiful enough nor rich enough for me!"

Despilfarro started with astonishment. 

"Eh! and who are you then, senor, may I ask in my turn?"

"Only, as you have said, Don Estevan Arechiza, " coolly replied theSpaniard. 

The Senator made three or four turns across the room before he couldcollect his thoughts; but in obedience to the distrust that had suddenlysprung up within him, he resumed:

"There is something in all this I cannot explain, and when I can'texplain a thing I can't understand it. "

"Good logic, " exclaimed Don Estevan, in a tone of raillery, "but am Ireally mistaken about you, my dear Senator? I did you the honour tobelieve you above certain prejudices; and even if there was anything inthe past life of the beautiful Rosarita--for instance, any prejudice tobe trampled under foot--is a million of dowry, besides three millions ofexpectation, nothing in your eyes?"

Don Estevan put this question for the purpose of sounding the moralityof the man, or rather to try the strength of a tool, which he meant tomake use of. 

Despilfarro returned no reply. 

"Now, then, I await your answer, " said Don Estevan, after a pause, appearing to take pleasure in the Senator's embarrassment. 

"Upon my word, Don Estevan, " replied Despilfarro, "you are cruel tomystify one in this manner. I--I--Carramba! it is very embarrassing. "

Don Estevan interrupted him. This hesitation on the part of Despilfarrotold the Spaniard what he wished to know. An ironical smile played uponhis lips, and laying aside his pleasantry, he resumed in a serious tone:

"Listen to me, Tragaduros! It would be unworthy of a gentleman tocontinue longer this badinage where a lady's reputation is concerned. Ican assure you, then, that the past life of the Dona Rosarita is withouta stain. "

The Senator breathed freely. 

"And now, " continued Don Estevan, "it is necessary that you give me yourfull confidence, and I will set you an example by giving mine with aperfect frankness: the success of the noble cause I have embraceddepends upon it. First, then, hear who I am. Arechiza is only aborrowed appellation. As to my real name--which you shall soon know--Imade oath in my youth, that no woman, however rich or beautiful, shouldshare it with me; therefore, now that my hair is grey do you think thatI should be likely to break the oath I have so long kept? Although awife, such as I propose for you, may ofttimes be a stepping-stone toambition, she is oftener an obstacle. "

As he said this, Don Estevan rose, and in his turn paced the floor withan agitated air. Some traces of distrust were still perceptible uponthe countenance of the Senator--they were noticed by him. 

"You wish for a more precise explanation?" said he; "you shall have it. "

The Spaniard approached the window and closed the shutters--as iffearful that their conversation might be heard outside. He then satdown again, and requested the Senator to be seated near him. 

Tragaduros watched him with a lively curiosity, at the same timelowering his eyes whenever they met the fiery glances of the Spaniard. 

The latter appeared suddenly to become transformed, as if lookinggrander and nobler. 

"Now, Senor Senator!" began he, "I am going to make known to you somesecrets sufficient to turn your head. "

The Senator trembled. 

"When the tempter carried the Son of Man to the top of a mountain, andpromised him all the kingdoms of the earth if he would fall down andworship him, he scarce offered him more than I am offering to theSenator of Arispe. As the tempter, then, I lay at your feet honours, power, and riches, if you will subscribe to my conditions. "

The solemnity of this exordium, and the imposing manner of Don Estevan, following so closely upon the jocular mien he had hitherto exhibited, made a painful impression upon the mind of the Senator. There was ashort moment in which he regretted being so _advanced_ in his opinions, and during this time the great dowry of Rosarita and her rosy lips hadbut slight prestige for him. 

"It is now twenty years, " continued the Spaniard, "since I took up myreal vocation in the world. Previous to that time, I believed myselfmade for domestic life, and indulged in those absurd dreams of lovenatural to young hearts. An illusion soon destroyed--an evil hour--anaccident showed me the deception; and I found out that I was made forambition--nothing more. I have therefore sought for glory and honour tosatisfy my desires, and I have won them. I have conquered the right tostand uncovered in the presence of the king of Spain. Chevalier of theOrder of Saint James of the Sword, I have taken part in the royalceremonies of the _white cloak and red sword_; and I may say that for mefame has been no idle illusion. Chevalier also of Carlos the Third, Ihave shared with the royal princes the title of the Grand Cross. I havewon successively the Order of Saint Ferdinand, of Saint Hermengildo, andthe Golden Fleece of Calatrava. These honours, although coveted by all, were for me but sterile consolations. "

This enumeration, made without the slightest show of ostentation, causedthe Senator to regard the speaker with an air of respectfulastonishment. Don Estevan continued:

"Wealth followed close upon these honours. Rich _appanages_, added tothe fortune I derived from my ancestors, soon left far behind me, thetime when, as a simple cadet of my family, I was worth nothing but mysword. Now I was rich, opulent, and--will I tell you?--I was still farfrom being content. My efforts continued; and I was made Comte deVillamares, and afterwards Duke de Armada--"

"Oh! Senor Duke, " interrupted Despilfarro, in a humble voice, "permitme--but--I--"

"I have not yet finished, " calmly continued the Spaniard; "when you haveheard all, you will no longer doubt my words. Notwithstanding yourmistrust, senor, I am still nothing more than the secret agent of aprince, and I desire to remain in your eyes, as ever, the simplegentleman Don Estevan de Arechiza--nothing more. It is necessary, however, that this distrust of me should not manifest itself again; forsince you are presently to know the object which I am pursuing, you willbe privy to my most secret thoughts. "

The Senator continued to listen in the most respectful silence. 

"As I have said, then, I followed ambition for twenty years for its ownsake; or to speak more truly, I passed twenty years of my life todestroy a painful souvenir, at the same time that I was pursuing thepath to fame. I fancied that in the middle of a turbulent life, thissouvenir would in time be effaced from my memory. The favourite of aprince, the expectant heir to one of the first thrones in Christendom--elevated to the highest places of power--wealth prodigally lavished uponme--I hoped to be able to forget that terrible souvenir. Vain hope!"added the speaker in a solemn voice: "Alas! Nothing can banish remorse. The bloody sword of Saint James was no idle symbol in my hands; forremorse lends to ambition a fearful activity--like a voice continuallycrying, `On--on forever!'"

Don Estevan paused, and for a time remained silent, during which theSenator regarded him with a timid look, at the same time admiring theimposing and solemn dignity of his countenance. 

"But where to go on?" continued the speaker; "what object to follownext? Into what new course might I precipitate this torrent of ambitionthat was boiling within me? At length a new incident offered itself, and gave me a fresh opportunity for action--an opportunity to strive andcombat--for in my case, to struggle and fight is to forget. 

"In all likelihood you have scarce heard of our political troubles, DonVicente? I am aware that all the kingdoms of Europe might be shaken totheir bases, without your knowing anything of the matter, in this out ofthe way corner of the world. Well, then, I shall make known to you whatoccurred. 

"It is now about two years since the king of Spain--by a total violationof the Salic law, hitherto observed by all his ancestors--violently cutoff the succession to the throne in the person of his brother DonCarlos; and by this act kindled the fires of civil war throughout thekingdom. The Infanta Isabella was declared heiress to the crown, to theexclusion of her uncle, the legal heir. This prince it was of whom Ispoke, and who is my august patron and protector. I did everything inmy power to assuage the mortal grief that this unexpected eventnaturally caused to the man, whom I above all others have reason toesteem. 

"Amidst the consolations which I offered him, and the plans which Iproposed, one design of a gigantic nature offered itself to myimagination. True, it presented the prospect of countless dangers, andobstacles almost insurmountable; but for this very reason I adopted it. 

"My dream, then, is to conquer for my master a kingdom as vast as theone of which he has been wrongfully deprived; to restore to him one ofthe brightest jewels of that Transatlantic crown, which his ancestorsonce so gloriously wore. I dream of conquering a kingdom--and thatkingdom once conquered, I, a simple gentleman, intend to present it tothe true heir of the Spanish monarchy--Don Carlos de Bourbon!

"Now, do you believe, Senor Senator, that Don Estevan de Arechiza hasthe power to bestow upon others, and without regretting it, the beautyand wealth of the daughter of a Mexican haciendado?"

The Spaniard pronounced these last words with an air of proudtranquillity, and then remained silent, awaiting their effect upon hislistener. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

THE NEW KINGDOM. 

The Mexican senator, with his contracted, or rather egoistic views, wasstruck dumb by the gigantic and daring design of his companion. Hecould only exclaim, as he respectfully pressed the hand which theSpaniard held out to him:

"Oh, Don Estevan--if you permit me still to give you this modest title--I regret my suspicions; and for the happiness which you offer me, forthe grand perspective which you open before me, I promise you my life, my heart, but--"

"But! another suspicion?" asked Don Estevan, with a smile. 

"_No_, not a suspicion of you, but a fear of some one else. Have younoticed the young man whom chance brought into our company? I have asecret presentiment that there is something between him and DonaRosarita. He is young--he is good-looking--and they appear to haveknown each other a long while. "

"What!" exclaimed Don Estevan, "jealous of this ragged rustic?"

"I avow, " replied the Senator, "that I cannot help it. I noticed two orthree times their eyes fixed upon each other with a strange expression. "

"Make yourself easy about that. I know, for certain--and from DonAugustin himself I have had my information--that the heart of hisdaughter is free. Besides, her vanity alone would hinder her from anyfancy for this droll fellow, who appears to have all the pride of aSpanish beggar. He shall be watched; and, should he have the impudenceto carry his pretensions so high, it will be an easy matter to send himabout his business. "

In pronouncing the last words the countenance of Don Estevan appearedfor a moment to wear a troubled expression, and he could not hinderhimself from adding:

"I have myself remarked what you say, but let us not dwell uponchimerical fears. Listen to me, Don Vicente, while I explain morecategorically the object of which I have been speaking, in order thatyou may understand fully why I wish to reckon upon your assistance. Ihave not yet told you--either what resources I have, or the kingdom itis my design to conquer. "

"True enough, " assented Tragaduros, "you have not. "

"The province then which I intend to transform into a kingdom is neithermore nor less than this of Sonora. "

"What! our republican state to be changed into a monarchy!" exclaimedthe Senator. "Senor Don Estevan, to attempt this will be to play withyour life. "

"I know it. "

"But what resources do you count upon?"

"Listen: Ten years ago I was in the Spanish army, and fought against theindependence of your country in this very province. I then becameacquainted with its resources--its incalculable richness--and when Iquitted it to go home to Europe, I had a presentiment that some day Ishould again return to it--as I have done. Chance at that time made meacquainted with Don Augustin, then occupied in amassing the vast wealthwhich to-day he so freely spends. I had the fortune to render him aservice--to save his life, in fact, and prevent his house from beingpillaged by the insurgents, for he did not conceal his sympathy for theSpanish cause. I afterwards kept up with him a correspondence, andlearned that Sonora became every day more discontented with the federalgovernment. I then designed my great plan, which was approved of by theprince, and at his desire I came over here. Don Augustin was among thefirst to whom I opened my purpose. He was flattered by the promises Iwas able to make in the name of my royal master, and at once placed hisfortune at my disposal. 

"Nothwithstanding the large pecuniary resources I have been able todispose of, I am seeking to augment them still farther, and chance hasfavoured me. While here in my former campaign I made the acquaintanceof an odd character--a young fellow who in turns betrayed both royalistsand republicans. My relations with him recall a somewhat drolloccurrence. I found that he was guiding the regiment I commanded intoan ambuscade of the insurgents, and I ordered him to be hung to thefirst tree we should meet with. Fortunately for him my men translatedthe order in its most literal sense; and being at the time in the middleof vast savannahs entirely destitute of trees, the execution was heldover, as it was an impossibility to perform it. The result was that inthe middle of our marchings and counter-marchings the fellow escaped;and it appears did not, afterwards, hold any rancour towards me, sincehe has again offered his services to me. This fellow to-day goes by thename of Cuchillo. It was he whom I met at the village of Huerfano, where you saw us renew our acquaintance; and at that interview he hasmade known to me the secret of an immense placer of gold--whither Iintend to conduct my expedition. Besides ourselves, Cuchillo aloneknows the object of this enterprise, " (the Spaniard did not mention thename of Tiburcio), "which is generally supposed to be merely a newexpedition--like many others that have been got up to go gold seeking bychance. 

"And now, Senor Senator, " continued Don Estevan, "you need not proceedfarther with us. You may remain here, where you will have an easy partto play, in making yourself agreeable to the fair Rosarita, while I ambraving the perils of this unknown frontier. As for Cuchillo, if heattempt to play the traitor with me a second time, I shall take care tobe a little more prompt in punishing him. 

"The product of this expedition, " pursued the Spaniard, --"of which, asleader, I shall be entitled to a fifth part--will be added to theresources I have already. The men who compose it will be easilyconverted into devoted partisans of our design; and should it happenthat the forces I expect from Europe should fail to come to hand in duetime, these adventurers will serve a good purpose. But I have no fearfor the want of followers. Europe is at the present moment overcrowdedwith people who lack employment: any enterprise will be welcome to them;and a leader in any part of the world needs only to speak the word forcrowds to enrol themselves under his banner. "

As he said this, Don Estevan paced the room, agitated by the grandeur ofhis thoughts. His dark eyes flashed with excitement, and his soulseemed inspired with a warlike ardour that caused him for a while toforget the presence of the Senator. It was only after some minutesspent in this wild enthusiasm that he remembered an important fact--thatin all projects such as he was engaged in, _intrigue_ should be theprecursor of open action; and as this was to be the peculiar _role_which the Senator was expected to play, he again turned to addresshimself to this individual. 

"Meanwhile, " said he, "your tactics will be of a more pacific character. I take charge of the open fighting--while you manage the secretdiplomacy of the affair. Your fortune, restored to you by this opulentalliance, will enable you to get back the influence you have lost. Youwill receive with the daughter of Don Augustin, at least two hundredthousand dollars of dowry. Half of this you are to employ in makingpartisans in the Senate, and in what you are pleased to call _yourarmy_. This sum you will not lose: it will be repaid to you, and withusurious interest; or if it never should, you still make a good thing ofit. The end you will keep in view, is to detach the Senate of Sonorafrom the Federal alliance. You will find no lack of reasons for thispolicy. For instance, your State has now scarcely the privileges of asimple territory; your interests differ entirely from those of thecentral States of the Republic. Every day your laws are becoming morecentralised. The President, who deals with your finances, resides at adistance of seven hundred leagues from your capital--it is ridiculous!Besides, the funds of the treasury are misappropriated--the army badlypaid, although you have to do your duty in raising the tax that is topay it--a thousand grievances can be cited. Well, this will enable youto get up a _pronunciamento_, and before the news of your _grito_ canreach the city of Mexico, and the Executive power there can send a forceagainst you--ay, before the government troops could get half-way toSonora, more than two-thirds of them would desert. The others wouldcome upon the ground, only to find the insurrectionary party too strongfor them, and they themselves would be certain to join us. 

"Laws emanating from your own Senate--of which you yourself would havethe control and guidance--laws suited to the manners and usages of yourState, would soon become firmly established and respected, and Sonorawould then be an independent government. This would be the first stepand the most difficult. After that the rest would be easy enough; andthe gold which I should furnish will bring it about. The Senate and thearmy would call for a European prince to place himself at their head--one who speaks the same language and professes the same religion asthemselves. This prince I have already provided. Now hear me, DonVicente! as to your own share in this business. The Senator Despilfarrois already a rich man, with a lady for his wife of whom a prince mightbe proud. He will be made noble--a count--a Grandee of Spain. Alucrative post will attach him to the person of the new king, andnothing is to hinder him from rising to the very summit of his ambition. All this I promise on the part of your future sovereign, _King Charlesthe First_. "

With these words the Spaniard finished his harangue. The MexicanSenator, fascinated by the riches and honours thus promised him, graspedthe hand of the bold conspirator, at the same time crying out withenthusiasm, "_Viva! Viva Carlos el Primero_!"

"Good!" rejoined Don Estevan, with a smile. "Don Carlos can count uponone powerful partisan already in Sonora, and there will soon be many. But it is getting late, Don Vicente, and I have yet much business to dobefore I can go to sleep. You will excuse me, then, if I bid good-nightto you. "

After exchanging the usual _buenas noches_, the Senator returned to hisown chamber and couch, to dream of his future riches and grandeur. 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

QUARRELSOME GAMESTERS. 

In a remote chamber of the hacienda were lodged the four adventurers, Pedro Diaz, Oroche, Cuchillo, and Baraja. These gentlemen were not slowin becoming acquainted with one another, and this acquaintance was soonof the most familiar character. In the middle of the room in which allfour were to pass the night, stood a strong oaken table, upon which, inan iron candlestick, was burning a long thin tallow candle, that gaveforth a somewhat dim and doubtful light. By this light Cuchillo andBaraja--forgetful of all their promises and vows--were going on with thegame, which had been so suddenly interrupted that morning at the villageof Huerfano. 

Pedro Diaz appeared to be merely an involuntary spectator; while Oroche, seated at one corner of the table, his right leg across his left, hiselbow resting on his knee--the favourite attitude of mandolin players--accompanied his own voice as he sang the _boleros_ and _fandangos_ thenmost in vogue among the inhabitants of the coast region. 

Wrapped as usual in his ragged cloak, Oroche appeared to have the trueinspiration of an artist: since he could thus elevate himself upon thewings of music, above the vulgar consideration of the toilette, or thecleanliness and comfort of the person. A bottle of _mezcal_, alreadyhalf empty, stood upon the table. From this the players occasionallyhelped themselves--as a finale to the elegant supper they had eaten andto which Cuchillo, Baraja, and Oroche had done ample honour. Notwithstanding the frequent bumpers which Cuchillo had quaffed, heappeared to be in the worst of humour, and a prey to the most violentpassions. His shaggy eyebrows, contracted by the play of thesepassions, added to the evil aspect of his physiognomy, rendering it evenmore sinister than common. Just then he was observed to cut the cardswith particular care. He was not playing with his friend Baraja for themere sport of the thing; for a moiety of the half ounce he had receivedfrom Don Estevan had already gone into Baraja's pockets, and Cuchillowas in hopes that the attention which he had given to the cutting of thecards might change the luck that had hitherto been running against him. The careful cutting, however, went for nothing; and once more the sum hehad staked was swept into the pocket of his adversary. All at onceCuchillo flew off into a passion, scattering his hand of cards over thetable. 

"Who the devil wants your music?" cried he to Oroche in a furious tone, "and I myself, fool that I am, to play in this fashion--only credit whenI win, and cash whenever I lose. "

"You offend me, Senor Cuchillo, " said Baraja, "my word has always passedfor its value in cash. "

"Especially when you don't happen to lose, " sneeringly added Cuchillo. 

"That is not a very delicate insinuation, " said Baraja gathering up thecards. "Fye, fye! Senor Cuchillo--to get angry about such a trifle! Imyself have lost half a hacienda at play--after being robbed of theother half--and yet I never said a word about it. "

"Didn't you indeed? what's that to me? I shall speak as I please, SenorBaraja, and as loudly as I please too, " added he, placing his hand uponthe hilt of his knife. 

"Yes, " coolly answered Baraja, "I know you use words _that cause yourfriends to drop dead_; but these words are harmless at a distance--besides I have got a tongue as sharp as yours, Senor Cuchillo. "

As Baraja said this, he drew his knife from its sheath--in which actionhe was imitated by his antagonist--and both placed themselvessimultaneously in an attitude for fight. 

Oroche coolly took up his mandolin--which at the interference ofCuchillo he had laid aside--and, like a bard of ancient times was, preparing to accompany the combat with a chant, when Diaz suddenlyinterposed between the two champions. 

"For shame, gentlemen!" cried he; "what! two men made to be mutualfriends, thus to cut each other's throats for a few paltry dollars! onthe eve too of becoming the owners of a hundred times as much! Have Inot understood you to say, Senor Cuchillo, that you were to be the guideof our expedition? Your life is no more your own, then; it belongs tous all, and you have no right to risk it. And you, Senor Baraja! youhave not the right to attempt the life of our guide. Come! put up yourknives, and let there be no more of this matter. "

This speech recalled the two combatants to their senses. Cuchilloremembering the grand interest he had in the success of the expedition, and perceiving that the risk of life was playing a little too high--fora combat of this sort usually ends in the death of one or the other--gave ready ear to the counsel of Diaz. Baraja, on his side, reflectedthat the dollars he had already pocketed might be better employed thanin defraying the expenses of his own funeral; and on this reflection wasequally ready to desist from his intention. 

"Be it so, then!" cried Cuchillo, speaking first; "I sacrifice myfeelings to the common good. "

"And I, " said Baraja, "I am willing to follow so noble an example. Idisarm--but--I shall play no more. "

The knives were again stuck into their scabbards, and the twoadversaries mutually extended their hands to one another. 

At this moment, Diaz, by way of preventing any allusion to the recentquarrel, suddenly turning to Cuchillo, demanded:

"Who, Senor Cuchillo, is this young man whom I saw riding by your sideas you came up to the hacienda? Notwithstanding the friendship thatappeared to exist between you and him, if I mistake not, I observed youregarding one another with an occasional glance of mistrust--not to sayhostility. Was it not so?"

Cuchillo recounted how they had found Tiburcio half dead upon the road, and also the other circumstances, already known to the reader; but thequestion put by Diaz had brought the red colour into the face of theoutlaw, for it recalled to him how his cunning had been outwitted by theyoung man, and also how he had been made to tremble a moment underTiburcio's menace. Writhing under these remembrances, he was nowdetermined to make his vengeance more secure, by enlisting hisassociates as accomplices of his design. 

"It often happens, " said he, in a significant tone, "that one man'sinterest must be sacrificed to the common welfare--just as I have nowdone--does it not?"

"Without doubt, " replied several. 

"Well then, " continued Cuchillo, "when one has given himself, body andsoul, to any cause, whatever it may be, it becomes his duty, as in mycase, to put a full and complete constraint upon his affections, hispassions, even his dearest interests--ay, even upon any scruples ofconscience that might arise in an over-delicate mind. "

"All the world knows that, " said Baraja. 

"Just so, gentlemen. Well, I feel myself in that difficulty; I have atoo timid conscience, I fear, and I want your opinions to guide me. "

His audience maintained an imperturbable silence. 

"Suppose, then, " continued the outlaw, "there was a man whom you allheld in the highest esteem, but whose life compromised the success ofour expedition, what should be done with him?"

"As God lives, " cried Oroche, "I should be happy to find some occasionof sacrificing private interests to the common good. "

"But is there such a man?" inquired Diaz, "and who may he be?"

"It's a long story, " replied Cuchillo, "and its details concern onlymyself--but there _is_ such a man. "

"Carajo!" exclaimed Oroche, "that is enough; he should be _got rid of_as speedily as possible. "

"Is that the advice of all of you?" asked Cuchillo. 

"Of course, " answered simultaneously Oroche and Baraja. 

Diaz remained silent keeping himself out of this mysterious compromise. After a little, he rose from his seat, and under some pretext left thechamber. 

"Well, then, gentlemen, " said Cuchillo, addressing himself to his twomore facile comrades, "you are fully of the opinion that the man shouldbe got rid of? Let me tell you, then, that this man is no other thanTiburcio Arellanos. "

"Tiburcio!" exclaimed the two acolytes. 

"Himself--and although, since he is one of my dearest friends, it goessadly against my heart, I declare to you that his life may renderabortive all the plans of our expedition. "

"But, " interposed Baraja, "why may he not lose it?--to-morrow in thishunt of wild horses there will be a thousand opportunities of his losingit?"

"True enough, " said Cuchillo, in a solemn voice. "It is of greatimportance he should not return from this hunt. Can I rely upon you, gentlemen?"

"Blindly!" replied the two adventurers. 

The storm was gathering over the head of poor Tiburcio, but dangerthreatened him from still another quarter; and long before the expectedhunt, that danger would be at its height. 

The three adventurers continued their conversation, and were enteringmore particularly into the details of their design, when a knocking atthe outer door interrupted their sinister councils. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

TIBURCIO IN DANGER. 

Cuchillo opened the door, outside of which appeared one of theattendants of Don Estevan. Without entering the man communicated hismessage--which was to Cuchillo himself--to the effect that Don Estevanawaited him in the garden. The outlaw, without reply, followed theservant, who conducted him to an alley between two rows of granadines, where a man wrapped in his cloak was pacing to and fro, apparentlyburied in a deep meditation. It was Don Estevan himself. 

The approach of Cuchillo interrupted his reverie, and a change passedover his countenance. Had Cuchillo not been preoccupied with his ownthoughts and purposes of vengeance, he might have observed on thefeatures of the Spaniard an expression of disdainful raillery, thatevidently concerned himself. 

"You have sent for me?" said he to Don Estevan. 

"You cannot otherwise than approve of my discretion, " began theSpaniard, without making answer. "I have allowed you time enough tosound this young fellow--you know whom I mean. Well! no doubt you havepenetrated to the bottom and know all--you, whose perspicacity is onlyequalled by the tenderness of your conscience?"

There was an ascerbity in this speech which caused the outlaw to feelill at ease, for it re-opened the wounds of his self-esteem. 

"Well, " continued Don Estevan, "what have you learnt?"

"Nothing, " replied Cuchillo. 

"Nothing!"

"No; the young man could tell me nothing, since he knew nothing himself. He has no secrets for me. "

"What! does he not suspect the existence of the Golden Valley?"

"He knows no more of it than of the Garden of Eden, " replied Cuchillo, with a confident swagger. 

"What was bringing him to the hacienda, then--for that is upon theroute? He must have some object in coming this way. "

"O yes!--he came to ask Don Augustin to take him into his service as avaquero. "

"It is evident, " said the Spaniard, in a tone of mockery, "that you havegained his full confidence and know all about him. "

"I flatter myself, my perspicacity--"

"Is only equalled by the tenderness of your conscience, " interrupted DonEstevan, still keeping up his tone of raillery. "Well, but has thisyoung man not confided to you any other secret? You have had a longride together, and an opportunity to talk of many things. For instance, has he said nothing to you about an affair of the heart?--has he nottold you he was in love?"

"Por Dios! Who could Tiburcio be in love with in these deserts? Thepoor devil is likely to think more of a good horse than a pretty girl. "

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Spaniard, with a mocking laugh that sent ashivering through the frame of Cuchillo. "Well, well! friend Cuchillo, your youth promised better than this. If your conscience is as callousas your perspicacity is obtuse--which God forbid--it is not likely tointerfere with your sleep. "

"What do you mean, senor?" demanded Cuchillo, evidently confounded bythe reproach. 

"I fear, my friend, that in the only good action you have ever done, youhave made a bad hand of it. "

"Good action!" repeated Cuchillo, embarrassed to know at what epoch ofhis life he had done such a thing. 

"Yes--in saving this young man's life. "

"But it was you who did that good action: as for me, it was only alucrative one. "

"Be it so. I will lend it to you, notwithstanding the proverb whichsays we should only lend to the rich. But now hear what I haveascertained--I, who do not boast either of my scruples of conscience orof my perspicacity. This young man has in his pocket, at this moment, awritten direction of the route to the Golden Valley; moreover, he ispassionately in love with Dona Rosarita, for whom he would give all thegold in this valley, or all the gold in the world, and all the horses inSonora, if he had them. Moreover, his object in coming to the Haciendadel Venado, was to make himself its future proprietor. "

"Blood and thunder!" cried Cuchillo, started as if bitten by asnake--"that cannot be--it is not possible I could be fooled in thatmanner by a child!"

"That child is a giant beside you, master Cuchillo, " coldly repliedArechiza. 

"It is impossible!" exclaimed the exasperated Cuchillo. 

"Do you wish the proofs?--if you do you shall have them--but I may tellyou they are of a nature to make you shudder from the crown of your headto the soles of your feet. "

"No matter; I should like to hear them, " said Cuchillo in a suppressedvoice. 

"I will not speak of your conscience--mark that well, Cuchillo! For Iknow that it never shudders--nor yet shall I speak of your timidity, which I observed last night while you were in the presence of thejaguars--"

Don Estevan paused, to let his words have their full effect. It was hisdesign to crush by his superiority the man whose fidelity he had athousand reasons to suspect. 

"Tiburcio, " continued he, "is of a race--or appears to be of a race--that unites intelligence with courage; and you are his mortal enemy. Doyou begin to understand me?"

"No, " said Cuchillo. 

"Well, you will presently, after a few simple questions which I intendto ask you. The first is:--In your expedition with Arellanos, had younot a horse that stumbled in the left leg?"

"Eh!" ejaculated Cuchillo, turning pale. 

"A second question:--Were they really _Indians_ who murdered yourcompanion?"

"Perhaps it was me?" replied the outlaw, with a hideous smile. 

"Third question:--Did you not receive, in a deadly struggle, a wound inthe leg? and fourth: Did you not carry upon your shoulder the dead bodyof Arellanos?"

"I did--to preserve it from being mutilated by the Indians. "

"One more question:--Was it for this you flung the dead body into theneighbouring river--not quite dead, it may be?"

The beams of the moon, slanting through the leaves of the granadines, shone with a livid reflection on the face of the outlaw, who withhaggard eyes listened, without comprehending whence they came, to theproofs of a murder which he believed forever buried in the desert. 

Cuchillo, when imparting to Don Estevan the knowledge of his marvelloussecret, had of course taken care not to give in detail the exact mannerby which he had himself become master of it; he had merely stated suchcircumstances as were necessary to convince the Spaniard of theimportance of the discovery. It would be impossible to paint thestupefied expression of his countenance, as he listened to theseinterrogatories. The very desert itself had spoken!

"Does Tiburcio know all this?" he asked, with an ill-dissembled anxiety. 

"No; but he knows that the assassin of his father had a horse likeyours; that he was wounded in the leg; that he flung the dead body inthe water. Of one matter only is he still ignorant--the name of themurderer. But now let me say to you; if you give me the slightest causeto suspect your fidelity, I shall deliver the secret to this young man, who will crush you like a scorpion. Good blood never lies; so I repeatit, Cuchillo; no deception--no treason, or your life will answer forit!"

"Well, as regards Tiburcio, " muttered Cuchillo to himself, "if you onlykeep the secret till this time to-morrow night, you may then shout it inhis ears: I shall have no fear of his hearing you. "

The outlaw was one of those characters who soon recover from a shock, similar to that he had just received. Almost on the instant heinquired, with impudent assurance:

"But your Excellency has not proved to me that this young fellow is inlove with Dona Rosarita; and until I have proof of this I shall notdoubt my penetration--"

"Hush!" interrupted the Spaniard; "I fancy I hear voices!"

Both remained silent. In advancing across the garden, the two men hadapproached nearer to the walls of the building, and on that side of itwhich fronted the window belonging to the chamber of Rosarita. Theywere still at a considerable distance from the window itself; but sotranquil was the night, that sounds could be heard along way off. Asthey stood to listen, a confused murmur of voices reached their ears--asof two persons engaged in conversation--but the words could not bedistinguished. 

"It is the voice of Tiburcio and Rosarita!" muttered the outlaw. 

"Did I not tell you? You may take that, I think, as an instalment ofthe proof you are desirous of having. "

A reflection, at this moment, came into the mind of the Spaniard, thatstruck upon his spirit like a thunderbolt. It was this:--"If the younggirl, after all, is really in love with this fellow, what a dilemma! Imay have to renounce all idea of the marriage, which I had designed asthe corner-stone of my vast edifice!"

Don Estevan was the only one who at this time was aware of the real nameand family of Tiburcio, and of course knew that he was not unworthy ofthe daughter of a Mexican haciendado. But it had never entered his mindthat this young girl, who only regarded Tiburcio in the light of a poorgambusino, would think for a moment of reciprocating his passion. Hisideas were suddenly altered, however, on hearing the voices of Tiburcioand Rosarita, alternating with each other, with no other witness totheir conversation than the stars in the sky. It was evident, therefore, that Rosarita did not regard the young rustic with anunfavouring eye. An interview, such as this, could not be otherwisethan a thing premeditated and prearranged. 

The heart of the Spaniard swelled with rage at the thought. Hisambition was suddenly alarmed: for this was an obstacle that had neveroccurred to him. His countenance exhibited a thoughtful and troubledexpression. He found himself unexpectedly in the presence of one ofthose exigencies, which render diplomacy powerless, and absolve allreasons of state. He had behind him a man ready to destroy whatevervictims he might point out; but he remembered that twenty years ofexpiation had failed to wash from his memory a murder of which he hadbeen himself accused. Should he, then, after having passed the middleof his career, again embitter the remainder of his days by another deedof blood? On the other hand, so near the object of his ambition, was heto permit this barrier to stand in his way? or with a bold effort to ridhimself of the obstacle?

Thus it is that the ambitious continually roll before them the rock ofSisyphus!

"Providence, " said he to himself--and as he pronounced the word a bittersmile played upon his lips--"Providence offers me an opportunity torestore to this young man his name and his fortune, and the honourswhich he has lost. Such a good action in my ripe age would perhapscompensate for the crime of my youth. But, no--no--I spurn theoccasion--it is but a slight sacrifice to the cause which I serve. "

As he spoke, his face was turned towards Cuchillo, who was observing himattentively; but the shadow of the trees hindered the outlaw from notingthe sombre expression of his countenance. 

"The hour is come, " said he, speaking to Cuchillo in a low voice, "whenour doubts are to be solved. But remember! your projects of vengeancemust remain subordinate to my wishes--now follow me!"

Saying this, he walked silently towards the hacienda, followed by theassassin. 

The storm which threatened Tiburcio promised soon to break over hishead. Two dangerous enemies were approaching him; Cuchillo with woundedself-esteem, and purposes of vengeance that caused, him to grind histeeth as he thought of them; and Don Estevan, smarting at the discoveryof such an obstacle to his ambition. 

Tiburcio in going forth from his chamber, and traversing the path thatconducted him to the appointed rendezvous, was under the belief he hadnot been observed: neither was he; but unfortunately chance had nowbetrayed him. 

The night was not so dark as Don Estevan and Cuchillo would have wished;nevertheless, by crouching low, and keeping well in to the wall thatenclosed the garden, they succeeded in reaching a little grove of orangeand citron trees, the foliage of which was thick enough to shelter themfrom view. From this grove, thanks to the calmness of the night, theycould catch every word that was said--for under the shadow of the treesthey were able to approach very near to the speakers. 

"Whatever you may hear, " whispered Don Estevan in the ear of the other, "remain motionless as I do. "

"I will, " simply answered Cuchillo. 

The two now placed themselves in an attitude to see and hear. They wereseparated from the speakers by a slight barrier of leaves and branches, and by a distance not greater than an active man could pass over in twobounds. Little did the victims of their espionage suspect theirproximity--little dreamt Tiburcio of the danger that was so near him. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

LOVE THROUGH THE WINDOW. 

For a time the listeners heard nothing beyond those commonplace speechesexchanged between lovers--when the young man, doubtful of his position, makes himself heard in reproaches, or arguments, which to him appearall-powerful, while the responses which he meets with show too plainlythat he is either not loved at all, or that the advantages are on theside of the girl. But was this really the position of Tiburcio withRosarita? It remains to be known. 

According to the custom of country houses throughout Mexico, the windowof Rosarita's chamber was unglazed. Strong iron bars, forming what iscalled the _reja_, hindered an entrance from without; and behind thisreja, lit up by the lamp in the chamber, the young girl was standing inan attitude of graceful ease. In the calm and perfumed night sheappeared even more charming than when seen in the brilliant saloon--forit is behind the railing of these balconies that the women of Spanishrace appear to the greatest advantage. 

A _reboso_ of silk was thrown over her head, falling over her shouldersin graceful undulations. The window running quite down to the level ofthe floor concealed nothing of her person; she was visible from thecrown of her head to the satin slipper that covered her pretty littlefoot; and the outline of her figure formed in a graceful silhouetteagainst the light burning within. 

Tiburcio, his forehead resting against the bars, appeared to strugglewith a painful conviction that was fast forcing itself upon him. 

"Ah!" said he, "I have not forgotten, as you, Rosarita, the day when Ifirst saw you in the forest. The twilight was so sombre I could scarcemake out your form, which appeared like the graceful shadow of somesiren of the woods. Your voice I could hear, and there was something init that charmed my soul--something that I had never heard till thatmoment. "

"I have never forgotten the service you rendered us, " said the younggirl; "but why recall those times? they are long past. "

"Long past! no, not to me, Rosarita--that scene appears to me as if ithad happened yesterday. Yes, " continued the young man, in a tone ofmelancholy, "when the light of the camp-fire by little and littleenabled me to observe the radiant beauty of your face, I can scarcedescribe the emotion which it gave me. "

Had Tiburcio, instead of looking to the ground, but raised his eyes atthat moment, he might have noticed upon the countenance of Rosarita anexpression of interest, while a slight blush reddened her cheeks. Perhaps her heart was scarce touched, but rarely does woman listen, without pleasure, to those impassioned tones that speak the praises ofher beauty. 

Tiburcio continued in a voice still softer and more marked byemotion:--"I have not forgotten the flowers of the llianas which Igathered for you, and that seemed to give forth a sweeter perfume whenmingled with the tresses of your hair. Ah! it was a subtle poison thatwas entering into my heart, and which has resulted in filling it with anincurable passion. Ah! fool that I have been! Is it possible, Rosarita, that you have forgotten those sweet souvenirs upon which Ihave lived from that day up to the present hour?"

There are certain moments of indiscretion in the life of most women, ofwhich they have a dislike to be reminded. Was it so with Rosarita? Shewas silent for a while, as if her rebellious memory could not recall theparticulars mentioned by Tiburcio. 

"No, " at length answered she, in a tone so low as not to betray a slighttrembling of her voice, "I do not forget, but we were then onlychildren--to-day--"

"To-day, " interrupted Tiburcio in a tone of bitter reproach, "to-daythat is all forgotten, since a Senator from Arispe has condescended tocomprise you in his projects of ambition. "

The melodious voice of Rosarita was now heard in a tone of disdainfulanger. Tiburcio had wounded her pride. 

"Comprise me in his projects of ambition, " said she, her beautifulnostrils curving scornfully as she spoke, "and who has told you, senor, that it is not I who condescend?"

"This stranger, too, " continued Tiburcio, still preserving hisreproachful manner, "this Don Estevan--whom I hate even worse than theSenator--has talked to you of the pleasures of Madrid--of the wonderfulcountries that lie beyond the sea--and you wish to see them with yourown eyes!"

"Indeed I acknowledge, " answered Rosarita, "that in these deserts lifeappears to me dull enough. Something tells me that I was not made todie without taking part in those splendours of the world of which I haveheard so much. What can you offer to me--to my father?"

"I understand now, " cried Tiburcio with despairing bitterness, "to bepoor, an orphan, unhappy--these are not the titles to win the heart of awoman. "

"You are unjust, Tiburcio. It is almost always the very reverse thathappens--for it is the instinct of a woman to prefer those who are asyou say. But it is different with fathers, who, alas! rarely share thispreference with their daughters. "

There was in these last words a sort of tacit avowal which Tiburcioevidently did not comprehend--for he continued his reproaches and bitterrecriminations, causing the young girl many a sigh as she listened tothem. 

"Of course you love this Senator, " said he. "Do not talk, then, ofbeing compelled!"

"Who talks of being compelled?" said Rosarita, hastily interrupting theyoung man. "I said nothing of compulsion, I only spoke of the desirewhich my father has already manifested; and against his will, the hopesyou may have conceived would be nothing more than chimeras or idledreams. "

"And this will of your father is to throw you into the arms of a ruinedprodigal, who has no other aim than to build up the fortune he hassquandered in dissipation, and satisfy his ambitious desires? Say, Rosarita, say! is this will in consonance with your own? Does yourheart agree to it? If it is not, and there is the least compulsion uponyou, how happy should I be to contest for you with this rival. Ah! youdo not make answer--you love him, Rosarita? And I--Oh! why did they notleave me to die upon the road?"

At this moment a slight rustling was heard in the grove of oranges, where Don Estevan and Cuchillo were crouching in concealment. 

"Hush!" said the young girl, "did you not hear a noise?"

Tiburcio turned himself quickly, his eye on fire, his heart beatingjoyfully with the hope of having some one upon which to vent theterrible anger that tortured it--but the rays of the moon shone onlyupon the silvery foliage--all was quiet around. 

He then resumed his gloomy and pensive attitude. Sadness had againtaken possession of his soul, through which the quick burst of anger hadpassed as lightning though a sombre sky. 

"Very likely, " said he, with a melancholy smile, "it is the spirit ofsome poor lover who has died from despair. "

"Santisima Virgen!" exclaimed Rosarita, making the sign of the cross. "You make me afraid, Tiburcio. Do you believe that one could die oflove?" she inquired in a tone of _naivete_. 

"It may be, " replied Tiburcio, with a sad smile still playing upon hislips. Then changing his tone, he continued, "Hear me, Rosarita! you areambitious, you have said so--hear me then! Supposing I could give youall that has been promised you? hitherto I have preferred to plead thecause of Tiburcio poor and an orphan; I shall now advocate that ofTiburcio Arellanos on the eve of becoming rich and powerful; noble too Ishall become--for I shall make myself an illustrious name and offer itto you. "

As he said these words the young man raised his eyes towards heaven: hiscountenance exhibited an altered expression, as if there was revived inhis soul the pride of an ancient race. 

For the first time since the commencement of the interview, Tiburcio wastalking sensibly, and the daughter of Eve appeared to listen with moreattention than what she had hitherto exhibited. 

Meanwhile the two spies were also listening attentively from theirhiding-place among the oranges. Not a word of what was said, not agesture escaped them. The last speech of Tiburcio had caused them toexchange a rapid glance. The countenance of the outlaw betrayed anexpression of rage mingled with shame. After the impudent manner inwhich he had boasted of his penetration, he felt confounded in thepresence of Don Estevan, whose eyes were fixed upon him with a look ofimplacable raillery. 

"We shall see now, " whispered the Spaniard, "whether this young fellowknows no more of the situation of the Golden Valley than he does of theGarden of Eden. "

Cuchillo quailed under this terrible irony, but made no reply. 

As yet Don Estevan had learnt nothing new. The essential object withhim was to discover whether Tiburcio's passion was reciprocated: therest was of little importance. In the behaviour of Rosarita there wascertainly something that betrayed a tender compassion for the adoptedson of Arellanos; but was this a sign of love? That was the question towhich Don Estevan desired to have the answer. 

Meanwhile, having excited the evil passions of the outlaw to the highestpitch, he judged it prudent to moderate them again; an explosion at thatmoment would not have been politic on his part. A murder committedbefore his face, even though he had not ordered it either by word orgesture, would at least exhibit a certain complicity with the assassin, and deprive him of that authority which he now exercised over Cuchillo. 

"Not for your life!" said he, firmly grasping the arm of the outlaw, whose hand rested upon his knife. "Not for your soul's safety!Remember! till I give the word, the life of this young man is sacred. Hush!" he continued, "listen!" and still holding the outlaw by the armhe turned his eyes upon Tiburcio, who had again commenced speaking. 

"Why should I conceal it from you longer?" exclaimed the young man, in atone to which the attentive attitude of Rosarita had lent animation. "Hear me, then! honours--riches--power I can lay at your feet, but youalone can enable me to effect this miracle. "

Rosarita fixed her eyes upon the speaker with an interrogatoryexpression. 

"Perhaps I should have told you sooner, " continued Tiburcio, "that myadopted mother no longer lives--"

"I know it, " interrupted the young girl, "you are alone in the world; Iheard it this evening from my father. "

The voice of Rosarita, in pronouncing these words, was soft as thebreeze that sighed through the groves of oranges; and her hand, fallingas if by chance into that of Tiburcio, did not appear to shun thepressure given to it. 

At the sight of this, the hand of Don Estevan gradually relaxed its holdupon the arm of Cuchillo. 

"Yes, " continued Tiburcio, "my mother died in poverty, though she hasleft me a valuable inheritance, and at the same time a legacy ofvengeance. True, it is a dangerous secret of which I am the heir, forit has already been death to those who possessed it; nevertheless itwill furnish the means to raise myself to an opulence like your own. The vengeance which I have sworn to accomplish must be delayed, but itshall not be forgotten. I shall yet seek the murderer of Arellanos. "

At these words Cuchillo turned pale, impatiently grinding his teeth. His arm was no longer restrained, Don Estevan grasped it no more, for hesaw that the hand of Rosarita was still pressed by that of Tiburcio. 

"Here me further!" continued the young man. "About sixty leagues fromhere, in the heart of the Indian country, there is a placer of gold ofincalculable richness; it was discovered by my adopted father. Mymother on her death-bed gave me full directions to find the place; andall this gold may be mine, Rosarita, if you will only love me. Withoutyour love I care nothing for it. What should I do with such riches?"

Tiburcio awaited the answer of Rosarita. That answer fell upon hisheart like the tolling of a funeral knell. 

"I hope, Tiburcio, " said she, with a significant smile, "that this isonly a _ruse_ on your part to put me to the proof--I hope so, because Ido not wish to believe that you have acted so vile a part as to makeyourself master of a secret that belongs to another. "

"The secret of another!" cried the young man in a voice hoarse withastonishment. 

"Yes, a secret which belongs only to Don Estevan. I know it--"

Tiburcio at once fell from the summit of his dreams. So his secret, too, was lost to him as well as her whom he loved, this secret uponwhich he had built his sweetest hopes; and to add to the bitterness ofhis disappointment, she too--for whose sake alone he had valued it--sheto accuse him of treason!

"Ah!" cried he, "Don Estevan knows of the Golden Valley? perhaps then hecan tell me who murdered my father! Oh! my God!" cried he, striking theground with his heel, "perhaps it was himself!"

"Pray God rather to protect you, --you will need all his grace!" cried arough voice, which caused Rosarita to utter a cry of terror as she saw adark form--that of a man--rushing forward and flinging himself uponTiburcio. 

The young man, before he could place himself in an attitude of defence, received a severe wound, and losing his balance fell to the ground. Thenext moment his enemy was over him. For some minutes the two struggledtogether in silence--nothing was heard but their loud quick breathing. The knife of Cuchillo, already stained with blood, had escaped from hishand, and lay gleaming upon the ground without his being able to reachit. 

"Now, villain, we are quits, " cried Tiburcio, who with an effort ofsupreme strength had got uppermost, and was kneeling upon the breast ofthe outlaw. "Villain!" repeated he, as he endeavoured to get hold ofhis poignard: "you shall die the death of an assassin. "

Places had suddenly changed--Tiburcio was now the aggressor, but at thismoment a third personage appeared upon the scene. It was Don Estevan. 

"Hold, " screamed Rosarita, "hold, for the love of the Holy Virgin! Thisyoung man is my father's guest; his life is sacred under our roof. "

Don Estevan grasped the arm that was raised to strike Cuchillo, and asTiburcio turned to see what thus interfered between him and hisvengeance, the outlaw glided from under him. 

Tiburcio now sprang up, rolled his serape around his left arm, andholding it as a shield, stood with his body inclined backward, his leftleg advanced, and his right hand firmly grasping his weapon, in theattitude of an ancient gladiator. He appeared for a moment as ifchoosing upon which of his antagonists he would first launch himself. 

"You call this being quits!" cried Cuchillo, his breast still heavingfrom the pressure to Tiburcio's knee. "Your life belongs to me--I onlylent it to you, and I shall now take it back. "

"Come on, dog!" shouted Tiburcio, in answer; "and you too, Don Estevan, you cowardly assassin! you who pay for the murder of defencelesspeople. "

The countenance of the Spaniard turned livid pale at this unexpectedaccusation. He instantly drew his dagger, and crying out:--"Down withhim, Cuchillo!" rushed furiously forward to the attack. 

No doubt Tiburcio would soon have succumbed before two such formidableantagonists, but at this moment a red light flashed upon the combatants, as Dona Rosarita, with a flaming torch in her hand, rushed forwardbetween them. 

The aspect of Tiburcio, who, despite the odds against him, and the bloodthat was running from his arm, still fearlessly maintained his defensiveattitude, caused the heart of Rosarita to beat with sympatheticadmiration. This sanguinary _denouement_ to their interview, waspleading the cause of the lover far more eloquently than either hisreproaches or promises!

The first impulse of Rosarita was to fling herself into the arms of theyoung man so daring and beautiful. She was restrained only fromfollowing this impulse, by a feeling of feminine delicacy; and for aninstant Tiburcio seemed the one about whom she was least concerned. 

"Oh! my God!" cried she, "are you wounded? Don Estevan? SenorCuchillo? Senor Arechiza! retire; for the love of the Virgin, let notthe world know that a crime has been committed in our house. "

The excited bearing of the young girl, her bosom heaving under the lighttissue of her dress, her reboso floating behind her, mingled with thelong dark tresses of her dishevelled hair--all these, added to the proudsavage beauty of her countenance--commanded respect; and as if byenchantment, the weapons of the combatants were restored to theirsheaths. 

Cuchillo growled like a dog newly muzzled, while Don Estevan preserved asombre silence. Both walked away from the ground, and their forms weresoon lost in the darkness. 

Tiburcio, with face upturned, his eyes still flashing with rage, hisfeatures illuminated with the red light of the torch, remained for somemoments without changing his attitude. His features exhibited thatsuperb expression that danger only magnifies into grandeur. Gradually, however, their tone became softened, and an air of melancholy succeededit, as his eyes rested upon Rosarita. The young girl had suddenlybecome pale, under the reaction of such vivid emotions, as well as underthe influence of the powerful sentiment now rekindled within her heart. Acting under this influence as well, she hastily arranged her scarf inorder to cover her nude shoulders, and the palpitating movements of herbosom. Even her motive for this was misunderstood by Tiburcio. 

"Rosarita!" he said, speaking with perfect calmness, "I might havedoubted your words, but your actions have spoken more plainly. It wasto my enemies you first ran, though my blood was spilling; all yourfears appeared to be for Don Estevan. "

"God knows that I do not deserve this reproach, " said the young girl, aswith a look of terror she saw the blood streaming to the ground. At thesame instant she advanced to examine the wound. 

Tiburcio repulsed her by stepping backward. 

"It is too late, " said he with a bitter smile, "the evil is done. Adieu! I have been too long your guest. The hospitality of your houseis fatal to me. Under your roof my life has been threatened, my dearesthopes have been crushed! Adieu, Rosarita! Adieu!"

As he pronounced the last words, he turned and walked hastily away. There was a broken place in the wall of the enclosure, and towards thishe directed his steps. A hundred paces beyond, the forest commenced, and the dark sombre trees were visible through the opening. Themysterious light he had already noticed, was still glimmering feeblyabove their tops. 

"Where are you going, Tiburcio?" cried the young girl, her hands joinedand her eyes filling with tears, "my father's roof will protect you. "

Tiburcio only answered by a negative shake of the head. 

"But yonder, " continued Rosarita, pointing to the woods, "yonder, aloneand without defence--danger--death will await you. "

"God will send me friends, " answered Tiburcio, glancing towards thedistant light. "The hospitality of the wandering traveller--a sleep byhis camp-fire--will be safer for me than that of your father's roof. "And Tiburcio continued to advance towards the breach with a gentle butresolute step. 

"For the love of heaven do not expose yourself to dangers that mayperhaps arise when I am no longer present to protect you! I tell youout yonder you will be risking your life;" then giving to her voice atone of persuasive softness, she continued, "In what place, Tiburcio, will you be safer than with me?"

Tiburcio's resolution was for a moment shaken, and he paused to makeanswer. 

"One word, Rosarita!" said he; "say that you hate my rival as I hatehim--say this, and I remain. "

A violent conflict appeared to arise in the breast of Rosarita. Herbosom swelled with conflicting emotions, as she fixed upon Tiburcio aglance of tender reproach, but she remained silent. 

To a man of Tiburcio's age the heart of a woman is a sealed book. Nottill we have lost the attractions of youth--so powerful, despite itsinexperience--are we able to penetrate the mysteries of the femaleheart--a sad compensation which God accords to the maturity of age. Atthirty years Tiburcio would have remained. But he was yet onlytwenty-four; he had spent his whole life in the desert, and this was hisfirst love. 

"You will not say it? Adieu, then, " cried he, "I am no longer yourguest, " and saying this, he leaped over the broken wall, before theyoung girl could offer any opposition to his departure. 

Stupefied by this unexpected movement, she mounted upon the fragmentsthat lay at the bottom of the wall, and stretching her arms toward theforest, she cried out--

"Tiburcio! Tiburcio! do not leave us so; do you wish to bring upon ourhouse the malediction of heaven?"

But her voice was either lost to his ears, or he disdained to reply. 

She listened a moment, she could hear the sound of his footsteps fastdying in the distance--until they could be heard no more. 

"Oh! my God, " cried she, falling upon her knees in an attitude ofprayer, "protect this young man from the dangers that threaten him. OhGod! watch over him, for alas! he carries with him my heart. "

Then forgetting in her grief her projects of ambition, the will of herfather, all that deceptive confidence, which had kept silent the voiceof a love, of the existence of which she was hitherto almost ignorant--the young girl rose hastily from her knees, once more mounted upon thewall, and in a heart-rending voice called out, "_Come back! Tiburcio;come back! I love only you_!"

But no answer was returned, and wrapping her face in her reboso, she satdown and wept. 

Before returning to her chamber she cast one more look in the directionof the forest, but the woods were still enveloped in the obscurity ofnight; all was sombre and silent, though in the distance the feeblelight was still glimmering over the tree tops. All at once it appearedfor an instant to flash more brightly, as if offering a welcome to himwho had no longer a home!

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

AN ABRUPT DEPARTURE. 

Don Estevan and Cuchillo, on leaving the ground of the combat, returnedto the alley of granadines; but for some time not a word passed betweenthem. Don Estevan was buried in a profound meditation. More skilledthan his coarse companion in the mysteries of the female heart, he haddivined, before the end of the dialogue between Rosarita and Tiburcio, that the young girl felt for the latter a tender sentiment. It was trueit was just germinating in her soul; but the accents of her voice, hergestures, and other signs, discovered to the experienced intelligence ofDon Estevan that she really loved Tiburcio, though herself not yet awareof the extent of that love. 

For Tiburcio knowing the secret of the Golden Valley, Don Estevan caredlittle--that was a matter of secondary importance; but Tiburcio's lovereciprocated by Dona Rosarita was a very different affair. This at oncepresented a series of obstacles to the ambitious projects of theSpaniard. Tiburcio then must be got out of the way at all hazards, andat any price. Such are the terrible exigencies of ambition. 

It only remained to adopt some plan; but the Spaniard was not then inthe spirit to think of one. He was writhing at the inadvertence thathad just happened. 

"The clumsy fool!" he muttered, but loud enough for his companion tohear him. 

"Is it of me your excellency is speaking?" inquired Cuchillo, in a tonethat savoured strongly of his usual impudence. 

"Who else could I mean, you sot? You who neither know how to usestrength or stratagem! A woman has accomplished what you could not do!I have told you that this child is a giant to you; and had it not beenfor me--"

"Had it not been for you, " interrupted the outlaw, "this young fellowwould not now have been living to trouble us. "

"How sir?" demanded Don Estevan. 

"Last night, as I was bringing him to your bivouac, the fellow did anoutrage to my honour, and actually threatened me. I was about puttingan end to our differences by a shot from my carbine, when your preciousold fool of a servant, Benito, came galloping up, and of course I had torenounce my design. So you see, the only good action I have ever done, has brought me to grief. Such is the reward of our virtue!"

"Speak for yourself, my droll fellow!" said the Spaniard, whose priderevolted at being thus classed with such company as the outlaw. "But ifthat could be outraged which does not exist, may I ask what attempt thisyoung man made upon your honour?"

"I do not know myself--it was something that happened with my horse, whohas the fault--"

Cuchillo interrupted himself as one who has made an imprudent speech. 

"The fault of stumbling in the left fore-leg?" added Don Estevan. "Isee--this old history of the murder of Arellanos. "

"I did not murder him, " cried the outlaw, impudently. "I had reasonsnot to like him; but I pardoned him, for all that. "

"Oh! you are so magnanimous! But come, an end to these pleasantries. It remains for you to get this young man out of the way. I have myreasons for wishing it so--among others, he knows our secret. I gaveyou a half _onza_ to save his life. To-day I have different viewsregarding him; and I promise to give you twenty _onzas_ when I amassured that he is no longer alive. "

"Agreed, Don Estevan; and in to-morrow's hunt of these wild horses, itwill be strange if Tiburcio Arellanos don't knock his brains out againsteither a rock or the trunk of a tree, or at least get himself into somecorner, where he won't be able to find his way out again. The onlyregret I have is, that I shall have to share these twenty onzas with myfriends, Baraja and Oroche. "

"To-morrow!" exclaimed Don Estevan; "and who knows but that to-morrowmay be too late? Is the night not better for your purpose? Are you notthree to one? Who is to assure you that to-morrow I may not change mymind?"

This threat seriously alarmed Cuchillo. 

"Carramba! your excellency is quick to decide; you are not one of thosewho leave for to-morrow what should be done to-day. _Pues_--then--Ishall try my best. In fact, it is very quiet here--I wonder the criesof this young woman have not startled the whole house. There's not acreature about. "

Such was in reality the case. Notwithstanding the noise of the strugglebetween Tiburcio and his assailants, and later still, the cries ofRosarita, no one had been awakened. The vast extent of the buildingprevented these sounds from being heard, particularly as all thedomestics of the hacienda, as well as the proprietor himself, wereburied in a profound slumber. 

Cuchillo now directed himself toward the apartment where he had left hiscomrades; Don Estevan returning at the same time to his own chamber. The moon once more poured her soft, silvery light upon the grove oforanges, as if no crime had ever been attempted in that tranquil spot. 

Don Estevan did not go to rest; but for a long time paced to and froacross his ample chamber, with the air of one accustomed to watch overambitious projects while others were asleep. 

After a lapse of time, Cuchillo was heard knocking softly at his door;and as soon as it was opened, the hired assassin stepped in. Hisconfused looks caused Don Estevan to tremble. Was the deed alreadydone? He wished it, yet feared to ask the question. Cuchillo relievedhim from his embarrassment by speaking first. 

"My twenty onzas are gone to the devil!" said he, in a lugubrious tone. 

"How?" hastily inquired Don Estevan. 

"The bird has flown: the young man is no longer about the place. "

"Gone!" exclaimed Don Estevan. "And you have let him escape?"

"How could I hinder him? This brute, Baraja, as well as Oroche, wereboth drunk with mezcal; and Diaz refused to assist me, point-blank. While I was endeavouring to arouse the other two, the fellow had takenleg bail through an opening in the wall of the garden--at least that'sall we can make out. "

"And how have you arrived at this conjecture?" asked Don Estevan, angrily striking the floor with his foot. 

"Why, when we arrived at the place, the Dona Rosarita was clinging overthe wall, no doubt guided there by Tiburcio. He could not be far off atthe time, for she was still calling upon him to return; and judging bythe love-speeches she was making, she must have earnestly desired it. "

"She loves him, then?"

"Passionately--or her words and her accents are all deceit. `_Comeback_!' she cried, `_Tiburcio, come back_! _I love only you_!' Thesewere the last words I heard; for shortly after she left the wall, andwent back to her room. "

"We must to horse and pursue him!" cried Don Estevan, hurrying to makeready; "yes, there is no help for it now. The success of our expeditiondepends upon the life of this ragged fellow. Go! arouse Benito and theothers. Tell them to saddle the horses. Warn your friends in thechamber that we must be _en route_ in an hour. Away! while I awake DonAugustin and the Senator. "

"Just as I have known him for twenty years, " muttered Cuchillo, as hehastened to his companions, "always awake, always ready for the greatestobstacles. Well, if with his character he has not made way in his owncountry, I fear that in Europe perseverance and energy are not worthmuch. "

Don Estevan, as soon as Cuchillo had left him, spent a few minutes inputting himself once more in travelling costume, and then repaired tothe chamber of the Senator. He found the door open--as is the custom ina country where people spend most of their lives outside their houses. The moon was beaming full through the large window, and her lightillumined the chamber as well as the couch upon which the Senator wassleeping. 

"What is it, Don Estevan?" cried the Senator, suddenly leaping up in hisbed; "Senor Estevan, I should say. " Tragaduros had been dreaming of thecourt of the King of Spain. "What is it, your grace?"

"I come to take leave of you, and to give you my final instructions. "

"Eh! what?" said the Senator. "Is the hour late? or have I been threedays asleep?"

"No, " gravely replied the Spaniard, "but there is a serious danger thatmenaces our projects--both yours and mine. This young rustic, whom wefound on the road, knows all about the Golden Valley; and what is stillworse, he loves Dona Rosarita, and Dona Rosarita loves him. "

Tragaduros, instead of starting up at this announcement, sank back uponhis pillow, crying out. 

"Adieu then to the million dollars of dowry! adieu to those beautifulplains covered with horses and cattle, which I already believed my own!adieu to the honours of the court of _Carlos el Primero_!"

"Come! all is not yet lost, " said Don Estevan. "The evil may beremedied if taken in time. This young fellow has quitted the hacienda. It will be necessary to follow and find him before he gets out of theway. So much the worse for him, if his evil star is in opposition toyours. "

The Spaniard said no more of his designs with regard to Tiburcio. As tothe Senator, it was of little importance to him how he was to bedisembarrassed of so dangerous a rival, so long as he himself should notbe troubled with the matter. 

"Whatever may be the end of it, " added Don Estevan, "one thing iscertain--the young fellow will never be allowed to come back to thishouse, for I shall arrange that with Don Augustin. You will thereforebe master of the situation, and will have everything your own way. Makethe young lady love you--it will be easy enough--your rival will beabsent, he may be _dead_--for these deserts are dangerous, and you knowthe old proverb about absence?"

"I shall make myself irresistible!" said the Senator, "for sinceyesterday I feel as if I was on fire about this lovely creature, whoappears to have come down direct from heaven--and with--such a dowry!"

"No man ever aimed at an object more desirable than this immense dowryand this fair flower of the desert. Spare no pains, therefore, to winboth the lady and the fortune. "

"If necessary I shall spin for her, as Hercules at the feet of Omphale. "

"Ha, ha ha!" laughed the Spaniard. "If Hercules had any merits in theeyes of Omphale, it was not on account of his spinning, but because hewas Hercules. No--do better than spin. To-morrow Don Augustin has ahunt among his wild steeds; there will be an opportunity for you todistinguish yourself by some daring exploit. Mount one of the wildestof the horses, for the honour of the beautiful eyes of Rosarita, andafter having tamed him, ride him up panting into her presence. Thatwill gain you more grace than handling the thread and distaff _a laHercules_. "

The Senator responded to these counsels with a sigh: and Don Estevan, having given him further instructions as to how he was to act during theabsence of the expedition, took leave of him, and repaired to thechamber of Don Augustin. 

The clank of his heavy spurs, as he entered the sleeping apartment ofthe haciendado, awoke the latter--who on opening his eyes and seeing hisnocturnal visitor in full riding-costume, cried out:

"What! is it time to set forth upon the chase? I did not know the hourwas so late!"

"No, Don Augustin, " replied the Spaniard, "but for me the hour has cometo set forth upon a more serious pursuit than that of wild horses. Ihasten to pursue the enemy of your house--the man who has abused yourhospitality, and who if not captured, may bring ruin upon all ourprojects. "

"The enemy of my house! the man who has abused my hospitality!" criedthe haciendado, starting up in astonishment, and seizing a long Toledorapier that hung by the side of his bed, "Who is the man that has actedso, Don Estevan?"

"Be calm!" said Don Estevan, smiling inwardly at the contrast exhibitedbetween the spirit of the haciendado and the pusillanimity of theSenator. "Be calm! the enemy I speak of is no longer under your roof--he has fled beyond the reach of your just vengeance. "

"But who is he?" impatiently demanded Don Augustin. 

"Tiburcio Arellanos. "

"What! Tiburcio Arellanos my enemy! I do not believe it. Loyalty andcourage are the characteristics of the young man. I shall never believehim a traitor. "

"He knows the situation of the Golden Valley! Furthermore, he lovesyour daughter!"

"Is that all? Why, I was aware of these facts already!"

"Yes, but your daughter loves him--perhaps you were not aware of thatfact?"

Don Estevan here detailed the events that had just transpired, and whichproved that the passion of the young gambusino was reciprocated byRosarita. 

"Well!" calmly rejoined Don Augustin; "so much the worse for theSenator!"

This reply could not fail to astonish the Spaniard, and create a feelingof disappointment. 

"Remember, " said he, "remember, Don Augustin Pena; that you have engagedyour word--not only to me, not only to Tragaduros, but to a prince ofthe blood royal of Spain, from whose brow this apparently simpleincident--the caprice of a young girl--may snatch a crown. Think too ofyour country--its future glory and greatness--all dependent on thepromise you have given--"

"Why, " interrupted Don Augustin, "why set forth all theseconsiderations? After my promise has been given, I never retract myword. But it is only to the Duke de Armada I have engaged myself, andhe alone can free me from that engagement. Are you satisfied with thisassurance?"

"How could I be otherwise?" cried the Spaniard, holding out his hand tothe noble haciendado. "Enough! I have your word, it will be necessaryforme to leave you without farther delay. This young fellow may findcomrades to accompany him to the Golden Valley. There is not a moment, therefore, to be lost. I must at once proceed to Tubac. Adieu, myfriend, adieu!"

Don Augustin would have risen to accompany his guest to the gates, butthe Spaniard would not permit him, and they parted without fartherceremony. 

When Don Estevan reached the court-yard, his attendants and domesticswere found in readiness to depart. The mules had been packed, and the_remuda_ collected in charge of the driver. The followers, Cuchillo, Baraja, Oroche, and Pedro Diaz were already in their saddles--the lastmounted on a magnificent and fiery steed, which told that the generoushaciendado had kept his promise. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

THE LONE FIRE IN THE FOREST. 

The motive for this hasty departure from the hacienda was unknown onlyto Benito and the other domestics. The cavalier adventurers were awareof its object though two of them, Baraja and Oroche, had no very clearunderstanding upon the matter. The fumes of the mezcal were still intheir heads, and it was with difficulty they could balance themselves inthe saddle. They were sensible of their situation, and did their bestto conceal it from the eyes of the chief. 

"Am I straight in my stirrups?" whispered Oroche addressing himself toBaraja. 

"Straight as a bamboo!" replied the other. "Do I appear firm?" inquiredhe in turn. 

"Firm as a rock, " was the response. 

Thanks to the efforts they were making to keep themselves upright, DonEstevan, as he glanced over the ranks of his followers, did not observeanything amiss. Cuchillo, however, knowing that they were not in a fitstate for inspection regarded them with an anxious glance. 

As Don Estevan was about to mount, the outlaw rode up to him, andpointing to the others with an expressive gesture, said, "If your honourdesires me to act as guide, and give the order of march, I am ready toenter upon my duties. "

"Very well, " replied Don Estevan, springing into the saddle, "commenceat any moment, but let us be gone as soon as possible. "

"Benito!" shouted the newly appointed guide, "take the _remuda_ and_recua_ in advance; you will wait for us at the bridge of the _Salto deAgua_. "

Benito, with the other attendants, obeyed the order in silence; and themoment after were moving with their respective charges along the roadleading to Tubac. A little later the cavalcade rode out of thecourt-yard of the hacienda, and turning round the wall of the enclosure, guided by Cuchillo, proceeded toward the breach through which Tiburciohad passed. The guide was riding by the side of Don Estevan. 

"We have found his traces, " said he to the chief, as they moved forward;"he is down in the forest. "

"Where?"

"Do you see a light yonder shining through the trees?"

The mysterious light was gleaming, just as Tiburcio had first seen itfrom his window. It was to this that Cuchillo directed the attention ofthe chief. 

"Yes, " replied the latter, "what of it?"

"It is the camp-fire of some travellers; and in all probability thefellow will be found there. So, " continued he, with a hideous smile, "we are going to give chase to a wild colt--which will be better thanhunting Don Augustin's wild horses--and here are the three hunters. "

As the outlaw said this, he pointed with his whip, first to himself, andthen to his two comrades, Oroche and Baraja. 

"They have both espoused our quarrel, " he added. 

"From what motive?" inquired the Spaniard. 

"That motive which the hound has in taking the part of the hunteragainst the stag, " answered the outlaw, with a significant smile; "theyonly follow their instincts, and they are two animals with formidableteeth. "

At this moment the moon shone out, and gleaming upon the carbines andknives of the two adventurers, seemed to confirm the assertion ofCuchillo. But the light proved disadvantageous to Baraja and Oroche, for it enabled Don Estevan to perceive that they were far from steady intheir seats. 

"Why, these fellows are drunk!" cried he, turning upon the guide a lookof furious reproach. "Are these the assistants you count upon?"

"True, your honour, " replied Cuchillo, "they are not exactly sober; butI hope soon to cure them. I know of a remedy that will set them allright in five minutes. It is the fruit of the _jocuistle_, which growsabundantly in these parts. I shall find it as soon as we have reachedthe woods. "

Don Estevan was forced to swallow his chagrin in silence. It was notthe time for vain recriminations; and above all, Tiburcio had first tobe found, before the services of either of the inebriated gentlemenwould be called into requisition. 

In a few seconds' time the party had reached the breach in the wall. Cuchillo dismounted, and striking a light, pointed out to the others thetraces left by Tiburcio. There could be seen some fragments freshlyfallen from the wall, evidently detached by the feet of one passingover; but what was of more consequence, they were stained with drops ofblood. This must have been Tiburcio's. 

"You see, " said the outlaw to Don Estevan, "that he must have passedthis way. Ah! if I had only given him another inch or two. After all, "added he, speaking to himself, "it is better I didn't. I shall betwenty onzas the richer that I didn't settle with him then. Now, "continued he, once more raising his voice, "where can he have gone, unless to yonder fire in the woods?"

A little farther on in the direction of the forest, other spots of freshblood were discovered upon the dry calcareous surface of the soil. Thisappeared to confirm the conjecture of the guide--that Tiburcio hadproceeded towards the camp-fire. 

"If your honour, " resumed Cuchillo, addressing himself to his chief, "will go forward in company with the Senor Diaz, you will reach a streamrunning upon your left. By following down its bank for some distance, you will come to a bridge constructed with three or four trunks oftrees. It is the bridge of the _Salto de Agua_. Just before reachingit, your honour will see a thick wood on the right. Under cover of thatyou can remain, until we three have finished our affair and rejoin you. Afterwards we can overtake the domestics. I have ordered them forward, for the reason that such people should not be privy either to ourdesigns or actions. "

In this arrangement Cuchillo exhibited the consummate skill of thepracticed bandit. Don Estevan, without offering any opposition to hisplan, rode off as directed, in company with Diaz; while the outlaw, withhis two chosen acolytes turned their horses' heads in the direction ofthe fire. 

"The fire betokens a halt of travellers, beyond doubt, " remarked Diaz toDon Estevan; "but who these travellers can be is a thing that puzzlesme. "

"Travellers like any others, I suppose, " rejoined the Spaniard, with anair of abstraction. 

"No, that is not likely. Don Augustin Pena is known for his generoushospitality for twenty leagues around. It is not probable that thesetravellers should have halted so near his hacienda without knowing it. They must be strangers to the country I fancy, or if not, they have nogood purpose in camping where they are. "

Pedro Diaz was making almost the same observations that had occurred toTiburcio at an earlier hour of the night. 

Meanwhile, Cuchillo, with his two comrades, advanced towards the edge ofthe forest. As soon as they had reached it the guide dismounted fromhis horse. 

"Stay here, " said he, "while I go fetch something to cure you of yourill-timed drunkenness. "

So saying he glided in among the trees, and in a few seconds came outagain, carrying with him several oblong yellow-coloured fruits thatresembled ripe bananas. They were the fruits of the _jocuistle_, aspecies of _asimina_, whose juice is an infallible remedy against theeffects of intoxication. The two inebriates ate of the fruit accordingto Cuchillo's direction; and in a minute or two their heads were clearedof the fumes of the mezcal as if by enchantment. 

"Now to business!" cried Cuchillo, without listening to the apologieshis comrades were disposed to make--"to business! You will dismount andlead your horses forward by the bridle, until you can see the fire; andwhen you hear the report of my gun, be ready, for I shall then fall backupon you. "

"All right, " responded Oroche, "we are both ready--the Senor Baraja andmyself--to sacrifice all private interests to the common good. "

Cuchillo now parted with the two, leading his horse ahead of them. Alittle farther on he tied the animal to the branch of a tree, and thenstooping downward he advanced on foot. Still farther on he dropped uponhis hands and knees, and crept through the underwood like a jaguarstealing upon its prey. 

Now and then he paused and listened. He could hear the distant lowingof the wild bulls, and the crowing of the cocks at the hacienda, mingledwith the lugubrious notes of the great wood owl, perched near him upon abranch. He could hear the distant sound of water--the cataract of the_Salto de Agua_--and, in the same direction, the continuous howling ofthe jackals. 

Again the assassin advanced--still creeping as before. Presently he sawbefore him the open glade, lit up by the flame of the camp-fire. On theedge nearest him, stood a huge button-wood tree, from whose baseextended a number of flat ridge-like processes, resembling the bastionsof a fortification. He perceived that, behind these he would beconcealed from the light of the fire; while he himself could command aview of every object within the glade. 

In another moment he was crouching under the trunk of the button-wood. His eyes gleamed with a fierce joy, as he gazed in the direction of thefire, around which he could distinguish the forms of three men--two ofthem seated, the other stretched along the ground, and apparentlyasleep. 

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

THE WOOD-RANGERS. 

Behind the Hacienda del Venado--that is, to the northward of it--thesurface of the country was still in a state of nature; as we havealready said, the edge of the forest lay almost within gun-shot of thewalls; and this vast tract of woods extended for many leagues to thenorth, till it ended in the great deserts of Tubac. 

The only road that trended in a northerly direction, was that leading tothe Presidio of Tubac--though in reality it was not a road, but simplyan Indian trail. At a short distance beyond the hacienda, it wascrossed by a turbulent and rapid stream--the same that passed near thehouse--augmented by several tributaries that joined it in the woods. Where the road crossed it, and for a long distance above and below, thisstream partook rather of the nature of a torrent, running in a deep bed, between rocky banks--a _canon_. Over this canon the crossing waseffected by means of a rude bridge consisting simply of the trunks oftwo or three trees, laid side by side, and reaching from bank to bank. About half-way between the hacienda and this bridge, and but a shortdistance from the side of the road, was the fire which had alreadyattracted so much attention. 

This fire had been kindled near the centre of a little glade, but itsflame cast a red glare upon the trees at a distance, until the grey barkof the button-wood, the pale foliage of the acacias, and the scarletleaves of the sumac, all appeared of one colour: while the darkerllianas, stretching from tree to tree, encircled the little glade with aseries of festoons. 

At the hour when Tiburcio was about leaving the hacienda, two personswere seated by this fire, in the attitude of men who were resting aftera day of fatigue. These persons were the trappers, who had already madetheir appearance at La Poza. 

There was nothing remarkable in two men having made their camp-fire inthe woods; it was their proximity to a hacienda--and that, too, theHacienda del Venado--that rendered the fact significant. The trappersknew well enough that the hacienda was close at hand; it followed, then, that they had some reasons of their own for not availing themselves ofits hospitality. A large pile of fagots lay near the fire, evidentlycollected to feed it, and this proved that the men who had kindled itintended to pass the night on the spot. 

The appearance of these two men would have been striking, even in thelight of day; but under that of the fire it was picturesque--almostfantastic. The older of the two was habited in a costume half Indian, half Canadian; on his head was a sort of bonnet, shaped like a truncatedcone, and made out of the skin of a fox; a blue striped cotton shirtcovered his shoulders, and beside him upon the ground lay a sort ofwoollen surtout--the _capote_ of the Canadians. His legs were encasedin leathern leggins, reaching from the thigh downward to the ankle; butinstead of moccasins he wore upon his feet a pair of strong iron-boundshoes, capable of lasting him for a couple of years at the least. Alarge buffalo-horn, suspended from the shoulder, contained his powder;and upon his right side hung a leathern pouch, well filled with bullets. In fine, a long rifle, with a barrel nearly six feet in length, restednear his hand; and this, with a large hunting-knife stuck in his belt, completed his equipment. His hair already showed symptoms of turninggrey and a long scar which crossed his temples, and appeared to run allround his head, showed that if his scalp was still there he had sometime or other run the risk of having it _raised_. His bronzedcomplexion denoted a long exposure to sun, wind, and rain; but for allthis, his countenance shone with an expression of good-humour. This wasin conformity with his herculean strength--for nature usually bestowsupon these colossal men a large share of kind-heartedness. 

The other trapper appeared to be some five or six years younger; andalthough by no means a man of small stature, he was but a pigmyalongside his gigantic companion. His countenance also lacked theserenity which distinguished that of the other--his black eyes gave outan expression of boldness approaching to effrontery; and the play of hisfeatures indicated a man whose passions, fiery by nature, once aroused, would lead him into acts of violence--even of cruelty. Everything abouthim bespoke the second trapper to be a man of different race from hiscompanion--a man in whose veins ran the hot blood of the south. Although his style of dress did not differ very much from that of hiscomrade, there were some points in it that denoted him to be more of ahorseman. Nevertheless, his well-worn shoes bore witness to his havingmade more than one long journey on foot. 

The Canadian, half reclining upon the grass, was watching with especialinterest a large piece of mutton, which, supported upon a spit ofiron-wood, was frizzling and sputtering in the blaze of the fire. Heappeared to enjoy the savoury odour that proceeded from the joint; andso much was his attention taken up by his gastronomic zeal, that hescarce listened to what his companion was saying. 

"Well, I have often told you, " said the latter, "that when one is on thetrace of an enemy, whether it be an Indian or a white, one is prettysure of coming on his tracks somewhere. "

"Yes, " rejoined the Canadian; "but you forgot that we shall just havetime to reach Arispe, to receive the pay for our two years' campaign;besides, by our not going to the hacienda, we lose the bounty upon thesethree skins, and miss selling them besides. "

"I never forget my interests, " replied the other; "no more than I do thevows which I make: and the best proof of it is, that twenty years ago Imade one which I believe I shall now be able to accomplish. We canalways force them to pay us what is due at Arispe, and we shall findmany an opportunity of getting rid of the skins: but the chance whichhas turned up in the middle of these deserts, of bringing me in contactwith the man against whom I have sworn vengeance may not offer againduring my whole lifetime. "

"Bah!" exclaimed the Canadian, "vengeance is like many other kinds offruit, sweet till you have tasted it, and afterwards bitter as gall. "

"For all that, Senor Bois-Rose, you do not appear to practise your owndoctrine with the Apaches, Sioux, Crows, and other Indians with whom youare at enmity! Your rifle has cracked many a skull--to say nothing ofthe warriors you have ripped open with your knife!"

"Oh! that is different, Pepe. Some of these would have robbed me of mypeltries--others would have taken my scalp, and came very near doing so, as you see--besides, it is blessed bread to clear the prairies of thesered vermin; but I have never sought to revenge myself against one of myown race and colour. I never hated one of my own kind sufficiently tokill him. "

"Ah! Bois-Rose; it is just those of one's own race we hate most--thatis when they have given us the reason for doing so--and this man hasfurnished me with such motives to hate him as can never be forgotten. Twenty years have not blunted my desire for vengeance; though, onaccount of the great distance that separated us, I supposed I shouldnever find an opportunity of fulfilling my vow. Strange it is that twomen, with relations like ours, should turn up together in the middle ofthese desert plains. Well! strange though it be, I do not intend to letthe chance escape me. "

Pepe appeared to have fixed his resolution upon this matter, and sofirmly that his companion saw the folly of attempting to dissuade him byany further advice. The Canadian, moreover, was of an easy disposition, and readily yielded to the arguments of a friend. 

"After all, " said he, "perhaps, if I fully understood your motives, Imight entirely approve of the resolution you have made. "

"I can give them in two words, " rejoined he whom the Canadian wasaddressing as Pepe. "It is just twenty years, as I have already toldyou, since I was a carabinier in the service of her Catholic majesty. Ishould have been content with my position and the amount of pay, had itonly been _paid_ which unfortunately it was not. We were obliged to dothe duty of coast-guard as well, and this would have done well enoughhad there been any smuggling, with the capture of which we might haveindemnified ourselves; but there was none. What a fool a smuggler wouldhave been to have ventured on a coast, guarded by two hundred fellows attheir wits' end with hunger! Well, then I reasoned that if any smugglerwas to land it could only be with the concurrence of our captain, and Isuspected that the captain would make no objection to such anarrangement--for he himself was, like the rest of us, a creditor of thegovernment. In such case he would cast around among us for the man inwhom he _could most_ confide, and that would be he who was noted asbeing most careless upon his post. I resolved, therefore, to become thecaptain's confidential sentry. 

"To arrive at this object I pretended to be all the day asleep; and, notwithstanding the reprimands I received, I managed also to be foundasleep upon my post at all hours of the night. I succeeded in mydesign. The captain soon learnt all about my somnolent habits, andchose me for his favourite sentinel. "

At this moment the Canadian detached the mutton from the spit, andhaving cut a large "hunk" from it with his knife passed the joint to hiscomrade. 

This interrupted the narrative, for both narrator and listener werehungry. The two now sat face to face, their legs forming a sort of anellipse, with the roast mutton in the centre, and for several minutes aformidable gritting of teeth, as huge pieces of the mutton passedthrough them, were the only sounds that broke the stillness of thenight. 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

OLD SOUVENIRS. 

"I have said then, " resumed Pepe, after a time, "that I pretended to bealways asleep. The _ruse_ succeeded equal to my best expectations, andone night the captain sent for me. Good! said I to myself, there's aneel under the stone--the captain is going to confide a post to me. Justas I had anticipated he sent me to sleep--at least he thought so--on amost important post; but for all that I did not sleep a wink during thewhole of that night. "

Here Pepe paused for a moment, in order to swallow an enormous mouthfulof the roast mutton, that hindered the free use of the tongue. 

"To be brief, then, " resumed he, "a boat arrived with men, and Ipermitted it to land. It was only afterwards that I learnt that it wasno smuggling business these men were bent upon, but an affair of blood--of murder; and the thought that I was instrumental in aiding theassassins causes me to this hour a feeling of remorse. I did notconceal what I knew. Afterwards I denounced the murderer, by way ofatoning for my fault. A trial took place, but as in Spain justice goesto the highest bidder, the assassin was set free, and I became a victim. I was drummed out of my regiment, and transported to the fisheries ofCeuta, on the unhealthy coast of Africa. There I was compelled toremain for many years, till at last having made my escape, after athousand perilous adventures, I found myself on the prairies ofAmerica. "

"It was a rich man then--some powerful person--whom you denounced?"

"Yes; a grand senor. It was the old story of the pot of clay brokenagainst the pot of iron. But the desert here has no distinctions; and, by the Virgin of Atocha! I shall prove that before many suns have goneover my head. Ah! if I only had here a certain alcalde of the name ofDon Ramon Cohecho, and his damned friend, one Senor Cagatinta, I fancy Ishould make them pass an uncomfortable quarter of an hour. "

"Very well, then, " said Bois-Rose, seeing the other had finished hisnarrative; "very well. I quite approve of your intentions--let thejourney to Arispe stand over. "

"It is an old story, " said Pepe, in conclusion; "and if for ten yearsyou have been teaching me to handle a rifle, after many more spent inthe usage of a carbine in the service of her Catholic majesty, surely Ishould be able to manage it now. I think I would scarcely miss anobject as large as him whom you have seen at the head of those horsemenjourneying towards the hacienda. "

"Yes--yes, " replied the Canadian, with a laugh; "but I remember thetime, Pepe, when you missed many a buffalo twice as big as he. Nevertheless, I fancy I have made a passable shot of you at last, although you still persist in mistaking the ear of an otter for his eye, which always depreciates the value of the skin. Well, you know that Imyself was not brought up on the prairies. I was a sailor for many longyears; and perhaps I should have continued one but for--a sad event--amelancholy affair--but what good is there in speaking of that which isno more. Let the past be past! I find the life of the desert somethinglike that on the ocean--once a man has got used to it he cannot easilyquit it. "

"Yes, " rejoined Pepe; "the life of the forest and prairie has itscharms, and for my part--"

"Hush!" whispered the Canadian, interrupting the speech of his comradeand placing himself in an attitude to listen. "I heard a rustle amongthe branches. Other ears than mine may be listening to you. "

Pepe cast a glance in the direction whence the sounds had been heard. The dark form of a man was perceived among the trees coming from thedirection of the hacienda. 

It was evident that the man was not trying to approach by stealth, forhis form was erect and he made no attempt to conceal himself behind thebranches. 

This would have freed the mind of Pepe from all suspicion, but for thecircumstance that the stranger appeared to be coming direct from thehacienda. 

"Who goes there?" he hailed in a loud tone, as the dark shadow was seenentering the glade. 

"One who seeks an asylum by your fire, " was the ready reply, deliveredin rather a feeble voice. 

"Shall we allow him to come on? or beg him to continue his journey?"muttered Pepe to the Canadian. 

"God forbid we should deny him! Perhaps they have refused him a lodgingup at the house; and that voice, which I think I have heard before, plainly denotes that he is fatigued--perhaps ill. "

"Come on, Senor!" called out Pepe, without hesitating farther; "you arewelcome to our fire and our mess; come on!"

At this invitation the stranger advanced. It is needless to say that itwas Tiburcio Arellanos, whose cheeks as he came within the light of thefire betrayed by their paleness the traces of some violent emotion, orelse of some terrible malady. This pallor, however, was partly causedby the blood which he had lost in the conflict with Cuchillo. 

As soon as the features of Tiburcio came fairly under the light, thetrappers recognised him as the young man they had met at La Poza; butthe ex-carabinier was struck with some idea which caused him to make aninvoluntary gesture. The Canadian, on the other hand, regarded thenew-comer with that expression of condescending kindness which age oftenbestows upon youth. 

"Have you parted with the gentlemen in whose company we saw you?" askedPepe of Tiburcio. 

"Yes. "

"Perhaps you are not aware that there is a house close by. I do notknow the owner, but I fancy he would not refuse you a night's lodging, and he could entertain you better than we. Perhaps, " continued he, observing that Tiburcio made no reply, "you have been up to the housealready?"

"I have, " answered Tiburcio. "I have no reproach to make against itsowner, Don Augustin Pena; he has not refused me hospitality; but thereare other guests under his roof with whom my life is not safe. "

"Oh, that!" exclaimed Pepe, appearing to become more interested; "hasanything happened to you?"

Tiburcio lifted his serape, exhibiting the wound in his right arm fromwhich the blood was yet oozing. 

Both Pepe and the Canadian rose hastily to their feet and steppedforward to examine the wound. Having done so, they immediately setabout dressing it, which they effected with as much dexterity anddespatch as might have been shown by practised surgeons; at the sametime the rude physiognomy of each was marked by an expression ofinterest almost amounting to tenderness. While the Canadian keptbathing the wound with water from his canteen, Pepe proceeded into thewoods in search of a peculiar plant noted for its healing properties. This plant was the _oregano_. Presently he returned, bringing with himseveral slices which he had cut from the succulent stem of the plant;the pulp of these, mashed between two stones, was placed over the wound, and then secured by Tiburcio's own scarf of China crape wound severaltimes around the arm; nothing more could be done than await the effectof the application. 

"Now, " said the Canadian, "you will soon feel better. There is nodanger of inflammation--nothing beats the oregano for preventing that, and you need not be afraid of fever. Meanwhile, if you feel inclined, there's a bit of roast mutton and a glass of _eau de vie_ at yourservice; after which you had best lie down by the fire and take somesleep--for I can see that you're weary. "

"In truth, " replied Tiburcio, "I am fatigued. I thank you for youroffer, but I do not feel inclined either to eat or drink; I have moreneed of sleep, and with your permission shall try and get some. Onerequest I would make of you: that you will not permit me to sleep toolong; there are reasons why I should soon be awake again. "

"Very well, " said Pepe; "we don't want your reasons. If you wish us towatch the hacienda, I beg you will only say so, and you shall have twopair of good eyes at your service; therefore make your mind easy, andsleep without fear of any enemy coming upon you unawares. "

Tiburcio stretched himself upon the grass, and overcome by fatigue andthe many violent emotions he had that day experienced, soon fell into alethargic slumber. 

For some time Bois-Rose sat regarding the sleeper in silence, but withan air of strange interest. 

"What age do you think he is?" he at length inquired of his comrade. 

"Twenty-four, I should fancy, " replied the ex-coast-guard. 

"Just what I was thinking, " said the Canadian, speaking in a tone ofhalf soliloquy, while a melancholy expression appeared to tone down hisrude physiognomy. "Yes, just the age he ought to be if still alive. "

"He! who are you talking of?" brusquely interrupted his companion, inwhose heart the words of the Canadian seemed to find an echo. 

"No matter, " said Bois-Rose, still speaking in a tone of melancholy;"the past is past; and when it has not been as one would have wished it, it is better forgotten. But come! let us have done with idle regretsand finish our supper--such souvenirs always spoil my appetite. "

"The same with me, " agreed Pepe, as he seized hold of a largemutton-bone, and commenced an attack upon it in a fashion that provedthat his appetite was not yet quite gone. 

After a while Pepe again broke the silence. 

"If I had the pleasure, " said he, "of a personal acquaintance with thisDon Augustin Pena, who appears to be the proprietor here, I wouldcompliment him upon the fine quality of his mutton; and if I thought hishorses were of as good a sort, I think I should be tempted to borrowone--one horse would never be missed out of the great herds we have seengalloping about, no more than a sheep out of his vast flocks; and to mea good horse would be a treasure. "

"Very well, " said the Canadian. "If you feel inclined for a horse, youhad better have one; it will be no great loss to the owner, and may beuseful to us. If you go in search of one, I can keep watch over thisyoung fellow, who sleeps as if he hadn't had a wink for the last month. "

"Most probably no one will come after him; nevertheless, Bois-Rose, keepyour eye open till I return. If anything happens, three howls of thecoyote will put me on my guard. "

As he said this, Pepe took up a lazo that lay near, and turning his facein the direction in which he was most likely to find a drove of horses, he walked off into the woods. 

Bois-Rose was left alone. Having thrown some dry branches upon thefire, in order to produce a more vivid light, he commenced regardinganew the young man who was asleep; but after a while spent in this wayhe stretched himself alongside the prostrate body, and appeared also toslumber. 

The night-breeze caused the foliage to rustle over the heads of thesetwo men, as they lay side by side. Neither had the least suspicion thatthey were here re-united by strange and providential circumstances--thattwenty years before, they had lain side by side--then lulled to sleep bythe sound of the ocean, just as now by the whispering murmurs of theforest. 

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

BOIS-ROSE AND FABIAN. 

For twenty years the murderer of the Countess de Mediana had goneunpunished. For twenty years the justice of heaven had remainedsuspended; but the time of its accomplishment was not far off. Soon wasit to open its solemn assizes; soon would it call together accuser andcriminal, witness and judge--not from one part of a country to another, but from opposite sides of the globe; and, as if led by some invisiblehand, all would have to obey the terrible summons. 

Fabian de Mediana and the Canadian sailor lay side by side--just as theyhad done twenty years ago, at three thousand leagues distance fromSonora. And yet they had no suspicion of ever having met before, thougha single chance word might at that moment have brought either to thememory of the other. 

It was just about this time that Don Estevan and his party rode off fromthe hacienda. 

The Canadian, according to the counsel of his comrade Pepe, slept withone eye open. At short intervals he contrived to awake himself, andraising his head slightly, cast around him a scrutinising glance. Buton each of these occasions, the light of the fire showed him Tiburciostill tranquilly asleep; and this appearing to satisfy him, he wouldagain compose himself as before. 

About an hour had passed, when the sound of heavy footsteps awakened himonce more, and listening a moment, he distinguished them as thehoof-strokes of a horse. 

A few moments after, Pepe made his appearance within the circle of theblaze, leading a horse at the end of his lazo--a magnificent animal, that snorted and started back at sight of the fire. Pepe, however, hadalready given him more than one lesson, and his obedience was nearlycomplete; so that, after a short conflict, the trapper succeeded inbringing him nearer and attaching him to the trunk of a tree. 

"Well, " said Pepe, wiping the perspiration from his forehead with an oldragged handkerchief, "I've had a tough struggle with him; but he's worthit, I fancy. What think you, Bois-Rose? Isn't he the most splendidquadruped that ever galloped through these woods?"

In truth it was a beautiful creature, rendered more beautiful by theterror which he was exhibiting at the moment, as he stood with his finelimbs stretched, his head thrown high in the air, his mane tossed overhis wild savage eyes, and his nostrils spread and frothy. Strangeenough that fear, which renders vile and degraded the lord of thecreation, should have an opposite effect on most of the lower animals--especially on the horse. This beautiful creature under its impulse onlyappears more beautiful!

Little as Bois-Rose delighted in horse-flesh, he could not withhold hisapproval of the capture which his comrade had made. 

"He looks well enough, " was his sober reply; "but he'll be a roughmount, I reckon. "

"No doubt of that, " assented Pepe. "I know he'll be rough at first; butthe main thing was to get hold of him. I had a lucky hand to hook himas I did. "

"I hope your neck will prove as lucky as your hand. For my part, I'drather walk ten leagues than be on his back for ten minutes. But see, comrade!" continued the big trapper, pointing to the stars, "they'regone down yonder! you'll need some sleep before morning. Lie down whileI take my turn of the watch. "

"I'll take your advice, " replied Pepe, at the same time stretchinghimself out upon his back, with his feet to the fire--in which attitudehe was soon asleep. 

The Canadian rose to his feet, took several turns round the fire--as ifto drive away any remains of sleep that might be lurking in his eyes--then sat down again, with his back resting against the stump of a tree. 

He had not been long seated before he got up once more, and, approachingwith caution, stood over Tiburcio. For several minutes he remained inthis attitude, attentively examining the features of the young man: hethen returned to his seat by the stump. 

"Just about _his_ age, if he is still living, " muttered he to himself. "But what chance have I to recognise in a grown man the features of aninfant scarce four years old?"

A smile of disdain played for an instant on his lips, as if he werechiding himself for the silliness of his conjectures. 

"And yet, " he continued, his countenance changing its expression, "Ihave seen and taken part in too many strange events--I have been toolong face to face with Nature--to doubt the power of Providence. Whyshould I consider this a miracle? It was not one when I chanced uponthe boat adrift that carried that poor infant and its murdered mother!No, it was the hand of God. Why might not the same hand restore him tome in the midst of the desert? The ways of Providence are inscrutable. "

As if this reflection had given birth to new hopes, the Canadian againrose to his feet, and approaching, stooped once more over the prostrateform of Tiburcio. 

"How often, " said he, "have I thus gazed on my little Fabian as heslept! Well, whoever you are, young man, " continued he, "you have notcome to my fire without finding a friend. May God do for my poor Fabianwhat I am disposed to do for you!"

Saying this, he once again returned to his seat, and remained for a longtime reflecting upon incidents that had transpired twenty years beforein the Bay of Biscay. 

It should here be stated that up to this hour Bois-Rose and Pepe had notthe slightest suspicion that they had ever met, before their chanceencounter upon the prairies of America. In reality they had never met--farther than that they had been within musket-range of each other. Butup to this hour Pepe knew not that his trapping comrade was the giganticsmuggler he had fired at from the beach of Ensenada; and Bois-Rose wasequally ignorant that Pepe was the coast-guard whose "obstinacy andclumsiness" he had spoken of to his lieutenant. 

The cause of this mutual ignorance of each other's past was that neitherof them had ever mentioned the word Elanchovi in the hearing of theother. The Canadian had never thought of communicating the incidents ofthat night to his prairie comrade; and Pepe, on his side, would havegiven much to have blotted them altogether from the pages of his memory. 

The night became more chilly as the hours passed on, and a damp dew nowfell upon the grass and the foliage of the trees. It did not wake thesleepers, however, both of whom required a long rest. 

All at once the silence was broken by the horse of Pepe, that neighedloudly and galloped in a circle at the end of his lazo: evidentlysomething had affrighted him. Bois-Rose suddenly started from hisreverie, and crept silently forward, both ear and eye set keenly toreconnoitre. But nothing could be heard or seen that was unusual; andafter a while he glided back to his seat. 

The noise had awakened Tiburcio, who, raising himself into a sittingposture, inquired its cause. 

"Nothing, " answered the trapper, whose denial, however, was scarcesincere. "Something indeed, " continued he, "has frightened the horse. A jaguar, I fancy, that scents the skins of his companions, or, morelikely, the remains of our roast mutton. By the way, you can eat a bitnow; I have kept a couple of pieces for you. "

And as he said this he handed two goodly-sized pieces of mutton toTiburcio. 

This time the young man accepted the invitation to eat. Rest had givenhim an appetite; and after swallowing a few mouthfuls of the coldmutton, warmed up by a glass of the brandy already mentioned, he feltboth his strength and spirits restored at the same time. His features, too, seemed to have suddenly changed their hue, and now appeared morebright and smiling. 

The presence of the hunter also added to the pleasure thus newly arisenwithin his breast. He remembered the solicitude which the Canadian hadexhibited in dressing his wound--which he now extended even to givinghim nourishment--and the thought occurred to him that in this man hemight find a friend as redoubtable for his herculean strength as for hisdexterity and courage. He no longer felt so lone in the world--soabandoned. 

On the other hand, Bois-Rose sat looking at his _protege_ and apparentlydelighted to see him enjoy his repast. The heart of the trapper wasfast warming into a strong friendship for this young man. 

"Stranger!" said he, after a considerable interval of silence, "it isthe custom of the Indians never to inquire the name or quality of aguest until after he has eaten of their bread. I have followed theirexample in regard to you; and now may I ask you who you are, and whathappened at the hacienda to drive you forth from it?"

"I shall willingly tell you, " answered Tiburcio. "For reasons thatwould have no interest for you, I left my hut and started on a journeyto the Hacienda del Venado. My horse, overcome by thirst and fatigue, broke down on the way. It was his dead body, as you already know, thatattracted the jaguars, so adroitly destroyed by you and your bravecomrade. "

"Hum!" interrupted the Canadian, with a smile; "a poor feat that--but goon. I long to hear what motive any one could have for hostility to amere youth scarce twenty years old, I should fancy. "

"Twenty-four, " answered Tiburcio, and then proceeded with his narrative. "I came very near sharing the fate of my poor horse; and when, abouttwo hours after, you saw me at La Poza, I had just arrived there--havingbeen saved by the party in whose company you found me. But what motivethose gentlemen could have, first to rescue me from death, and thenafterwards attempt to take my life, is what I am unable to comprehend. "

"Perhaps some rivalry in love?" suggested the Canadian, with a smile;"it is usually the history of young men. "

"I acknowledge, " rejoined Tiburcio, with an air of embarrassment, "thereis something of that; but there is also another motive, I believe. Possibly it is to secure to themselves the sole possession of animportant secret which I share with them. Certain it is, that there arethree men whom my life appears to discommode; there is one of themagainst whom I have myself sworn vengeance, and although I am but oneagainst three I must accomplish the vow which I made at the death-bed ofa person who was very dear to me. "

The three men whom Tiburcio meant--and whose names he repeated toBois-Rose--were Cuchillo, who had attempted to assassinate him; theSenator, his rival: and Don Estevan, whom Tiburcio now believed to bethe murderer of Marcos Arellanos. 

Bois-Rose tacitly applauded this exhibition of youthful ardour andreckless courage. 

"But you have not yet told me your name?" said he, interrogatively, after a moment's hesitation. 

"Tiburcio Arellanos, " was the reply. 

At the mention of the name the Canadian could not restrain a gesturethat expressed disappointment. There was nothing in the name to recallthe slightest souvenir. He had never heard it before. 

The young man, however, observed the gesture. 

"You have heard the name before?" he asked abruptly. "Perhaps you knewmy father, Marcos Arellanos? He has often been through the wildestparts of the country where you may have met him. He was the mostcelebrated gambusino in the province. "

Instead of calling Marcos Arellanos his father, had Tiburcio said his_adopted father_, his explanation might have elicited a differentresponse from the Canadian. As it was, he only said in reply:

"It is the first time I have heard the name. It was your face thatrecalled to me some memories of events that happened--long, long ago--"

Without finishing what he meant to have said, the Canadian relapsed intosilence. 

Tiburcio, too, ceased speaking for a while; he was reflecting on somehopes that had suddenly sprung up within him. His meeting with the twotrappers appeared to him not so much a mere chance as a providentialcircumstance. The secret which he possessed, almost useless to himalone, might be rendered available with the assistance of twoauxiliaries such as they--it might become the key to the favour of DonAugustin. It was not without repugnance that he reflected on this meansof winning the heart of Rosarita--or rather of purchasing it at theprice of gold--for Tiburcio believed that it was closed against any moretender appeal. He had mentally resolved never to return to thehacienda; but notwithstanding this vow he still indulged in a slightremnant of hope--perhaps the echo of his own profound passion. Thishope overcame his repugnance; and he resolved to make known his designto the trappers, and endeavour to obtain assistance in carrying it out. 

With this view he again opened the conversation. 

"You are a hunter by profession--I think I have heard you say?"

"Yes; that is the vocation both of my comrade and myself. "

"It is not a very profitable one, and yet attended with many dangers. "

"Ah! it is a noble calling, my boy! My fathers followed it before mytime, and I, after a few years of interruption, have resumed theprofession of my fathers. Unfortunately I have no son to succeed me;and I can say, without boasting, that when I am gone a brave and strongrace perishes with me. "

"I, too, " said Tiburcio, "follow the profession of my father--who, as Ihave told you, was a gambusino. "

"Ah! you are one of a race whom God has also created--in order that thegold which He has given to the world should not be lost to the use ofman. "

"My father, " continued Tiburcio, "has left me a grand legacy--theknowledge of a deposit of gold, not far from the frontier; and if twomen, such as you and your comrade, would join me in obtaining it, Icould promise to make you richer than ever you dreamt of becoming. "

Tiburcio awaited the reply of the trapper, feeling almost certain of hisadhesion, notwithstanding the refusal the latter had made in hispresence to the proposal of Don Estevan. His astonishment, therefore, was great when the Canadian, with a negative shake of the head, repliedas follows:

"Your proposal, young man, might be seductive to many--there was a timewhen it would have been so to myself--but now it is no longer so. Whatwould gold be to me? I have no one to whom either to give it or leaveit. I have no longer a country. The woods and prairies are my home, and gold would be of no service to me there. I thank you, young friend, for your offer, but I must decline to accept it. "

And as he said this, the Canadian covered his face with his huge hand, as if to shut out from his eyes the seductive prospect which had beenoffered to his view. 

"Surely this is not your final answer?" said Tiburcio, as soon as he hadrecovered from his surprise. "A man does not so readily refuse atreasure that he has only to pick up from the ground?"

"Nevertheless, " responded the trapper, "it is my resolution, fixed andfirm. I have other objects to follow. I have given myself, body andsoul, to aid my comrade there in an enterprise--my comrade of ten years'standing. "

During this conversation the words _gold_ and _treasure_, frequentlypronounced, appeared to produce their magic influence on Pepe. Everynow and then he turned himself, as if about to protest against therefusal of Bois-Rose, so definitively given. It was evident he was notsleeping very soundly while the talk was going on. 

"This Don Estevan de Arechiza, of whom you speak, " resumed the Canadian;"he is the same we saw at La Poza is he not--the chief of theexpedition?"

"The same. "

"Ha! is that the name he goes by here?" cried Pepe, suddenly rousinghimself from his apparent sleep. 

"You know him, then?" said Tiburcio, interrogatively. 

"Yes--yes, " replied Pepe; "he is an old acquaintance, with whom I havesome back debts to settle--and that is why you see me in this part ofthe country. But if you desire to have the whole story--and from whathas happened I fancy you will--I promise to tell it to you by-and-bye. I begin to fancy that our cause is a common one; and if so, I shall beable to lend you a hand. But there's a time for everything; and now, the most important thing for me is to get some sleep, so as to be readyfor whatever turns up. "

As Pepe said this, he made a movement to return to the horizontalposition from which he had temporarily raised himself. 

"Stay! Pepe!" interrupted the Canadian, with an air of good-humour;"one instant before you fall asleep, or I shall say that you deservedthe name of Pepe the Sleeper. Hear me! This young man has made us anoffer. He wishes us to accompany him to a _placer_ he knows of, whereyou have only to stoop down and gather the gold in handfuls. "

"Carramba!" exclaimed Pepe; "you have accepted the offer, of course?"

"On the contrary, I have refused it. "

"Then you've done wrong, Bois-Rose! That's a thing that deservesconsideration; but we can talk it over by-and-bye--I must have somesleep first. " And as he uttered the last words he lay down again; andthe instant after a loud snore announced that he was soundly asleep!

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

THE RECOGNITION. 

The conversation, for a moment interrupted, was resumed by Bois-Rose. 

"So you shall find, " said he, "in my comrade Pepe, a man ready to joinyou against this Don Estevan; and, as Pepe's enemies are mine, I shallbe equally your partisan. We shall be able to offer you a brace of goodrifles that never miss their aim. There is one, at all events, I thinkI can answer for. "

As the trapper said this, he pointed to the long piece that rested byhis side. 

Tiburcio cast his eyes upon the gun, and for a moment regarded it withsome surprise. He appeared to look more particularly at the wood-workof the stock, which was notched and carved in a somewhat fantasticmanner. Here there was a row of simple notches, and there another rowof marks resembling crosses. Then there were rows of double crosses;and also one of triple crosses; and finally a series of stars. Allthese hieroglyphics appeared to have been cut with the blade of a knife;but their purpose was a puzzle to Tiburcio. 

Bois-Rose, noticing an interrogative expression upon the face of theyoung man, at once entered upon an explanation. 

"These marks, " said he, "are the scores I keep of the savages that havefallen by my rifle. They themselves keep count by the number of scalps;but this, you see, is more Christian and decent. That row of crossesstands for Apache--there is a dozen in all. The double crosses are forSioux--seven of them. Those with the triple branch are Pawnees--eightof them I have sent to the land of spirits. The stars are Crows--andnumber only four, that my rifle has caused to utter their death-yell. You see nine parallel notches?--well, these are nine Flatheads that, thanks to me, will rob no longer in this world; and finally, those marksof a roundish shape, which I needn't count, are so many Blackfeet, whohave gone to their happy hunting-grounds. Now, " added the trapper, "Ithink I can promise you a rifle that is not likely to miss fire, and thehand of a friend that will not fail you. "

And as he said this, he stretched forth his huge hand, and grasping thatof Tiburcio, pressed it frankly and firmly. 

The young man accepted the offer with a profusion of thanks. 

"I had a presentiment, " said he, "when I saw the light of your fire, that I should find friends around it. "

"You are not deceived, " warmly responded Bois-Rose; "you have foundfriends;--but, pardon me when I ask you, have you no relatives orconnections with whom you could find a home?"

For a moment the colour mounted to the cheeks of Tiburcio; but after aslight hesitation, he replied:

"Why should I not be frank with you?--I shall! Know then, bravetrappers, that surrounded as I am by enemies who seek my life; disdainedby the woman I have loved, and still love--I am alone in the world: Ihave neither father, nor mother, nor any relative that I know of?"

"Your father and mother--are they dead?" inquired Bois-Rose, with an airof interest. 

"I never knew either of them, " answered the young man in a sad voice. 

"You have never known them!" cried the Canadian, rising suddenly, andlaying hold of a blazing fagot, which he held up to the face ofTiburcio. 

This fagot, light as it was, appeared as if a hundredweight in the handof the giant, that trembled like an aspen, under the convulsive emotionsthat were agitating his bosom. He held the flame closed to thecountenance of the young man, and scanned his features with eageranxiety. 

"But surely, " said he, "you at least know in what country you wereborn?"

"I do not, " answered Tiburcio. "But why do you ask me? Whatinterest--"

"Fabian! Fabian!" interrupted Bois-Rose, in a soft, appealing tone, asif he was speaking to an infant--"what has become of you?"

"Fabian!" repeated the young man; "I do not know the name. "

"Oh, my God!" exclaimed the Canadian, as if speaking to himself, "sincethis name recalls nothing to him, it is not he! Why did I indulge insuch a foolish hope? And yet his features are just as Fabian's shouldbe at his age. Pardon me, " he continued, addressing himself toTiburcio--"pardon me, young friend. I am a fool! I have lost mysenses!"

And throwing the fagot back upon the fire, he returned to his seat, placing himself with his back to the light, so that his countenance wasconcealed from the eyes of his companion. 

Both were for some minutes silent. Tiburcio was endeavouring topenetrate the past, and recall some vague reminiscences of infancy, thatstill lingered in his memory. The widow of Arellanos had told him allshe knew of his early history--of the gigantic sailor who had nursedhim; but it never occurred to Tiburcio that the great trapper by hisside, a _coureur de bois_ of the American wilderness--could ever havebeen a seaman--much less that one of whom he had heard and read, and whowas believed to have been his father. The strange interest which thetrapper had exhibited and the questions he had asked were attributed byhim to mere benevolence. He had no idea that the latter referred to anyone whom he had formerly known, and who was now lost to him; forBois-Rose had as yet told him nothing of his own history. 

As Tiburcio continued to direct his thoughts upon the past, certainvague souvenirs began to shape themselves in his memory. They were onlydim shadows, resembling the retrospect of a dream, and yet he wasimpressed with the belief that they had once been realities. He was themore confirmed in this idea, because such visions had occurred to himbefore--especially upon the night when he sat by the death-bed of hisadopted mother--the widow of Arellanos. The revelations which she madeto him before dying had revived in some mysterious way these shadowysouvenirs. 

After a while the young man made known his thoughts to his companion bythe camp-fire, whose interest appeared to be forcibly re-awakened, andwho listened with eager attention to every word. 

"I fancy I can remember, " said Tiburcio--"that is, if it be not a dreamI have sometimes dreamt--a terrible scene. I was in the arms of a womanwho held me closely to her breast--that I was rudely snatched from herembrace by a wicked man--that she screamed and cried, but then all atonce became silent; but after that I remember no more. "

These words appeared to produce an effect upon the Canadian; and hisinterest visibly increased as he listened. 

"You can remember no more?" he inquired, in an eager tone. "Can you notremember what sort of place it was in? Was it in a house? or do you notremember whether the sea was around you? That is a thing one is notlikely to forget. "

"No, " answered Tiburcio, "I saw the great ocean for the first time atGuaymas--that was four years ago--and yet from what has been told me Ishould have also seen it when I was a child. "

"But, when you saw it four years ago, did it not recall anything to yourmemory?"

"No, nothing. "

"Nothing?" repeated the Canadian, interrogatively, and in a despairingtone. 

"Nothing more than this same dream, which I have mistaken no doubt forreality. "

Bois-Rose again resumed his attitude of melancholy, and remained silent. 

After a pause Tiburcio continued:

"One figure appears to me in these visions that is different from therest. "

"What sort of figure?" inquired the Canadian, with renewed interest. 

"That of a man of a hale rude countenance, but notwithstanding one ofkindly expression. This man loved me, for I now have his face before memore clearly than I ever had; and I can trace that expression upon it. "

"And did you love him? can you remember that?" inquired the Canadian, while his heart beat with anxiety, as he awaited the answer. 

"I am sure I did, he was so kind to me. I can remember he was kind tome. "

A tear stole over the bronzed cheek of the trapper as he listened tothese words; and then turning his face once more so that it was hiddenfrom the view of Tiburcio, he murmured to himself--

"Alas, poor Fabian! he too loved me--I know he did. "

Then once more facing round to the fire, he hazarded a last question:

"Do you not remember one circumstance above all? Do you not rememberthat this man was suddenly separated from you in the midst of a terribleaffray--?"

The emotion under which Bois-Rose was suffering hindered him fromfinishing his interrogatory. His head fell between his knees, and heawaited in trembling the response which Tiburcio might make. 

The latter was silent for some seconds, as if endeavouring to arrangethe confused thoughts that had suddenly sprung up in his mind. 

"Hear me!" said he at length, "you who appear to be a beacon guiding mymemories of the past--hear what I can remember at this moment. Therewas one day of terror and confusion; I saw much blood around me. Theground appeared to tremble--there was thunder or the noise of cannon. Iwas in great fear within a dark chamber where I had been shut up--a mancame to me; it was the big man who loved me--"

Tiburcio paused for an instant, as if to grapple freshly with the vaguereminiscences that were endeavouring to escape from him, while theCanadian appeared like one suffering the agony of suspense. 

"Yes, " resumed Tiburcio, "this man came to me--he lifted me up in hisarms and carried me into the light--there he caused me to kneel down--oh! I now remember what he said--`_kneel_!' said he, `_kneel, my child!and pray for your mother_!' That is all I can remember. "

The Canadian, who was still seated, appeared to tremble convulsively, ashe listened to these last words; but when Tiburcio had finishedspeaking, he rose suddenly to his feet; and rushing forward threw hisarms wildly around the young man, while at the same time he cried out ina broken voice:

"_Your mother whom I found dead beside you_. Oh! my God! Once more inneed of a father, hast thou sent him to me. Oh! Fabian! Fabian! Cometo my heart! It was I who caused you to kneel--I am that man! who inthe bay of Elanchovi--"

At this moment the report of a carbine echoed in the woods; and a bulletwhistling through the air, passed close to the head of Tiburcio, striking a tree that stood behind him. 

This unexpected intruder at once put an end to the dialogue; suddenlychanging the tableaux of figures around the fire. Pepe, who had heardthe shot, sprang instantaneously to his feet, and all three stoodgrasping their weapons, ready to receive the enemy who had committed thedastardly attempt. 

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

SOUVENIRS OF ELANCHOVI. 

While these incidents were passing by the trappers camp-fire, DonEstevan was actively pursuing the execution of his plans. 

From what little he had heard and seen of Diaz he had conceived a highopinion of this person. He had observed in him a man of very differentcharacter from the crowd of adventurers who usually make up expeditionsof the kind he was about to lead. Don Augustin had pronounced upon hiscourage; and the chief himself had noticed the reserve with which Diaztreated his new associates Cuchillo and Baraja. Moreover, some wordswith Diaz himself had confirmed Don Estevan's favourable impression, andconvinced him that the Indian fighter was a man of brave and loyalheart. He regarded Diaz, therefore, as a valuable member of theexpedition, and resolved to attach him as much as possible to hisservice--not merely with a view to his assistance in the search andconquest of the Valley of Gold, but for that higher aim which he hadproposed to himself--the establishment of a kingdom. 

While proceeding to the rendezvous designated by Cuchillo, Don Estevantook the opportunity of sounding Diaz on this important question. Hisbravery and address as a soldier were already known; but these twoqualities were not sufficient for the purposes of the Spaniard. Something more would be required of the man of whom it was his design tomake both his lieutenant and confidant. 

The reply of Diaz to his very first question, convinced Don Estevan thatDiaz was the very man he stood in need of; but the time had not yetarrived for the leader to open himself fully. He contented himself bysimply observing, that in the event of the expedition being crowned withsuccess, it might lead to an important affair--the separation of Sonorafrom the Federal Republic. 

At this moment the conversation between the chief and Pedro Diaz wasinterrupted by the report of a carbine. It was the shot fired byCuchillo, which had caused the sudden alarm at the camp-fire of thetrappers, but which as already known had failed in its aim. 

If the outlaw had not yielded to his own cupidity, it is possible thatTiburcio would have fallen at that moment. The assassin would havetaken with him his two associates Baraja and Oroche; and as threebullets instead of one would thus have been aimed at the intendedvictim, the chances are that some of them would have reached his life. But Cuchillo did not desire to have a partner in the deed who couldclaim a share in the promised reward, he was determined to have thetwenty onzas to himself; and this it was that induced him to leaveBaraja and Oroche behind him. His design was well conceived, and mighthave been executed to his satisfaction. No doubt his aim had been trueenough; but it chanced to be taken at an inopportune moment--just asTiburcio sprang forward under the impulse of the revelation whichBois-Rose had made to him. 

Having delivered his fire the outlaw did not even stop to ascertain itseffect; but turning suddenly away, he ran to recover his horse. Thedread of being pursued and overtaken by the two trappers caused him tofly at full speed. He dreaded the vengeance of two men of whosesingular courage and dexterity he had already been a witness. Fear, however, so confused his senses, that on facing round, he was unable toremember in what direction he had come, or where the horse had beenleft; and for some seconds he stood hesitating and doubtful. 

Short as was the time, it might have proved fatal to him, but that hisunexpected attack had somewhat disconcerted the camp. Both Bois-Roseand Tiburcio, interrupted while suffering the most vivid emotions, stoodfor some moments in a state of stupor, while Pepe was stretched out atfull length, and supposed to be asleep. 

This was only apparent, however, for at the report he sprang to his feetas if he had heard the "hish" of the bullet as it passed close to hisears. 

"_Carramba_!" cried he, "I am curious to know which of us that bit oflead was intended for, you or myself, young man; for I have heard yourconversation, and I am no stranger to this affair of Elanchovi. "

"Elanchovi!" exclaimed the Canadian. "What! do you know anything ofElanchovi?"

"Ah, well do I, " answered Pepe. "I have good reasons to knowElanchovi--but there's no time to talk of it now; I will settle thatbusiness by-and-by, for it's a secret you can't comprehend without myhelp. So indeed it is the young count, and you have found him again!Well that's enough at present. Now, Bois-Rose, forward! You take tothe right of where the shot came from, while this young man and I go tothe left. The cowardly rascal who fired will no doubt be trying to turnour camp, and by going both ways, one or other of us will be likely tochance upon him. Away, Bois-Rose, away!"

Hurriedly pronouncing these words, Pepe grasped his rifle and struck offto the left, followed by Tiburcio, who had no other weapon than hisknife. The Canadian, suddenly stooping, till his huge body was almosthorizontal, glided off to the right under the branches of the trees, andthen moved on with a silence and rapidity that showed how accustomed hewas to this mode of progression. 

The camp-fire was abandoned to the guard of the half-wild horse, that, freshly affrighted by the report of the carbine, once more plunged andreared, until he had almost strangled himself in the noose of his lazo. 

Meanwhile the day was beginning to break, and the red light of the firewas every moment growing paler under the first rays of the morning. 

"Let us stop here, " said Pepe to Tiburcio, as soon as they had reached athicket where they could have the advantage of seeing without beingseen, and from which they commanded a view of the road leading to theSalto de Agua. "Stand closely behind this sumac bush, " continued he; "Ihave an idea that this _picaron_, who has such a crooked sight, willpass this way. If he do, I shall prove to him that the lessonsBois-Rose has given me have not been altogether lost upon me. I managemy piece somewhat better now than when I was in the service of herCatholic majesty. There now, stand close, and not a word above awhisper. "

Tiburcio--or, as we may now call him, Fabian de Mediana--obeyed withpleasure the injunctions of his companion. His spirit, troubled with afew strange words he had heard from Bois-Rose and Pepe, was full of hopethat the latter would be able to complete the revelation just begun; andhe waited with anxious silence to hear what the ex-carabinier might say. 

But the latter was silent. The sight of the young man--whom he hadhimself assisted in making an orphan, and despoiling not only of histitle and wealth, but even of his name--renewed within him the remorsewhich twenty years had not sufficed to blot out from his memory. Underthe dawning light he looked sadly but silently on the face of that childwhom he had often seen playing upon the beach of Elanchovi. In theproud glance of the youth, Pepe saw once more the eyes of his high-bornmother; and in the elegant and manly form he recognised that of Don Juande Mediana, his father; but twenty years of a rude and laborious life--twenty years of a struggle with the toils and dangers of the desert--hadimparted to Fabian a physical strength far superior to that of him whohad given him being. 

Pepe at length resolved to break the silence. He could no longerrestrain himself, suffering as he was from such bitter memories. 

"Keep your eye fixed upon the road, " said he, "at yonder point, where itis lost among the trees. Watch that point whilst I talk to you. It isthe way in which Bois-Rose and I do when there is any danger threateningus. At the same time listen attentively to what I say. "

"I listen, " answered Fabian, directing his glance as his companion, hadinstructed him. 

"Do you remember nothing of your young days, more than you have justrelated to the Canadian?"

"Nothing--ever since I learnt that Arellanos was not my father, I havetried to remember something, but to no purpose. I do not even know whotook care of me in my infancy. "

"No more know they of you, my poor young man. I am the only one who cantell you these things of which you are ignorant. "

"For heaven's sake speak!" impatiently cried Fabian. 

"Hush! not so loud!" cautioned the trapper. "These woods, remote andsolitary as they seem, nevertheless contain your deadliest enemy--unless, indeed, it was at me that the bullet was aimed. That may make adifference in your favour. In fact, since I have not been able torecognise you, I do not see how _he_ can?"

"Who--of whom do you speak?" brusquely demanded Fabian. 

"Of your mother's murderer--of the man who has robbed you of yourtitles, your honours, your wealth, and your name. "

"I should be noble and rich then?" cried Fabian, interrogatively. "Ohthat I had but known it sooner--only yesterday!"

Fabian's thoughts were upon Rosarita. If he could have told this toher, in that sad parting interview, perhaps the result might have beendifferent!

"Noble! yes!" replied Pepe, "you should be and shall yet, if I mistakenot--but rich--alas! you are no more rich. "

"What matters it?" responded Fabian, "to-day it would be too late. "

"Yes, but it does matter--ah! I knew two men--one at least--who shallrestore to you what you have lost, or die in the attempt. "

"Of whom do you speak?"

"Of one who, without knowing it, aided to some extent in theassassination of your mother--of one whom that sad souvenir has athousand times troubled the conscience--who, in the silence of the nightin the midst of the woods, has often fancied he could hear that cry ofanguish, which at the time he mistook for the wailing of the breezeagainst the cliffs of Elanchovi. It was the death scream of your poormother. Ah! Don Fabian de Mediana, " continued the speaker, in reply tothe gesture of horror made by the young man, "Ah! that man's consciencehas reproached him in stronger terms than you could use; and at thishour he is ready to spill the last drop of his blood for you. "

The impetuous passions of Fabian, for a moment softened by thoughts ofRosarita, were again inflamed to their utmost. He had already sworn toavenge the death of Arellanos, and here was anew object of vengeance, the murderer of his own mother! The bland image of Rosarita at oncedisappeared, paling away as the firelight eclipsed by the brightergleams of the rising sun. 

"My mother's assassin!" cried he, his eyes flashing with furiousindignation. "And you know him?"

"You also--you have eaten with him at the same table--under the sameroof--that which you have just now quitted!"

Pepe without further interrogation went on to recount what he knew ofthe events of Elanchovi. He told Fabian who he was--that Don Estevanwas no other than his uncle, Antonio de Mediana--of the marriage of hismother with Don Juan his father--of the consequent chagrin of theyounger brother--of his infamous design, and the manner it had beencarried into execution. How Don Antonio, returning from the wars inMexico, with his band of piratical adventurers, had landed in a boatupon the beach at Ensenada--how he had entered the chateau, and with thehelp of his two subordinate villains had abstracted the Countess and herinfant--himself Fabian--how the assassination of the mother had beencommitted in the boat, and the child only spared in the belief that themurderer's steel was not necessary--in the belief that the waves and thecold atmosphere of a November night would complete the deed of death. 

Nor did Pepe conceal his own conduct connected with this affair. Hedisclosed all to his half-frantic listener--the after actions of DonAntonio with regard to himself--his imprisonment and subsequentbanishment to the fisheries of Ceuta--his escape at a later period tothe prairies of America, and his meeting with Bois-Rose--with whom, however, no recognition had ever been established about the events ofElanchovi--since neither had ever mentioned that name in hearing of theother. 

All these things Pepe narrated in turn, but briefly as the circumstancesrequired. The rest of his history Fabian already knew--at least, thegreater part of it; Bois-Rose had partially made the revelation. 

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

THE MAN IN THE YELLOW JACKET. 

Bois-Rose, as already stated, had gone alone in a direction opposite tothat taken by his comrades. His mind full of the danger with whichFabian was surrounded--Fabian restored to him as if by a miracle--theCanadian continued to advance with rapid strides. He examined everyopening and aisle of the forest with an eye keenly bent, and an earstraining to catch the slightest sound. 

After making a distance of a hundred yards or so, he stopped in histracks, and laying himself flat along the grass, placed his ear to theground and listened attentively. In a few seconds' time a dull soundreached him--the hoof-strokes of a horse that seemed to approach thespot where he lay. 

"Pepe is right, " muttered he to himself, as he started to his feet; "theskunk is coming this way. Good! he has the advantage of me in beingmounted; but I have a rifle that I dare say will make up for thedifference--_enfant de grace_! he is here!"

As this exclamation escaped him, the trapper was seen suddenly to raisehis long rifle to his shoulder. At the same instant a leathern jacketof yellowish colour appeared at some distance off among the leaves, andat about the height of a man on horseback. 

The sharp crack of a rifle was instantly followed by the disappearanceof the leathern jacket: and, since for marksmen like Bois-Rose to takeaim is to hit, the latter had no doubt that his enemy had fallen to theground either dead or wounded. For a moment he thought of reloading;but the ardour of his vengeance urged him to rush forward and make sureof his victim. In the event that the assassin should have companions, the trapper trusted to his great strength to equalise the chances of ahand-to-hand conflict. Neglecting all further precautions, therefore, like the hunter rushing upon the wounded stag, he dashed forward throughthe trees toward the spot where his enemy had fallen. 

As he drew near, he could perceive a horse rearing furiously in front ofhim, crushing the underwood as he plunged violently from side to side. The horse was saddled and bridled, but there was no one in the saddle. This led Bois-Rose to the belief that his bullet had dismounted therider. 

All at once a shrill whistle rang through the trees; and the horseuttered a loud neigh--as if in reply--galloping off in the directionfrom which the signal had come. After making several lengths throughthe bushes, the horse came to a stop. Bois-Rose ran after, and in a fewbounds was beside the animal. It was still dark under the shadow of thetrees, but the Canadian could make out the form of a man upon theground, at that moment struggling in the act of raising himself. Justthen the horse dropped upon his knees, the man grasping the pommel ofthe saddle succeeded in crawling into it; a signal started the animal tohis feet again; and before the trapper could come up to the spot, bothhorse and man were fast disappearing behind the foliage of the trees. 

Bois-Rose launched after them a furious malediction; and reloading hisrifle as rapidly as he could, sent a bullet in the same direction; butthe continued strokes of the horse's feet falling upon his ear told himthat his random shot had been delivered to no purpose. 

Without following further, he turned in the opposite direction, andafter imitating three times in succession, the howling of the prairiewolf--a signal for Pepe--he strode off to the spot where the yellowjacket had fallen from the saddle. 

There he perceived the grass pressed down as if where a man's body hadfallen upon it; and at about the height of a man on horseback, thebranches of the sumac tree were broken, as though the horseman hadcaught at them in falling. There were no traces of blood, however--nota drop could be seen; but a carbine lying upon the ground showed thatthe horseman, in his hurry to escape, had left his weapon behind him. 

"My poor Fabian!" muttered he, "this will serve for him. In these woodsa knife is not much worth; this will be a better weapon for him. "

Somewhat consoled by this reflection, the trapper now turned to go backin the direction of the camp-fire. He had not made a dozen steps, whenthe sharp report of a rifle fell upon his ear. 

"It is Pepe's!" he cried. "I know it. God grant he may have made abetter shot than I have done!"

Just then a second report echoed through the woods. It sounded sadly onthe ear of the Canadian--who did not recognise it--and being now thevictim of a terrible uncertainty, he ran with all speed in the directionwhence the sound had come. 

Another report that now reached him added to the anguish of hissuspense; for this time, like the last, it was not the well-known crackof his comrade's rifle. 

Almost at the same instant, however, he heard Pepe's voice calling out:

"Come back, Fabian! come back! What is the use of--"

A third detonation seemed to cut short the speech of theex-coast-guard--as if he had fallen by the bullet--while no voice ofFabian was heard to make reply. A profound and frightful silencefollowed the last shot, which was broken only by the voice of themock-bird, who appeared imperfectly to imitate the words that had beenspoken, and then commenced chanting a plaintive song--as if mourning thedeath of those who had fallen by the shots. 

The Canadian ran on for some moments, until--unable longer to restrainhimself--he paused, and cried out, at the risk of exposing himself tosome ambushed enemy:

"Hola! Pepe!--where are you?"

"Here!" answered the voice of the ex-carabinier. "We are here, straightbefore you--Don Fabian and myself. Come on!"

A cry of joy was all the response the Canadian could give; and the nextmoment another joyous shout, as he came upon the ground and perceivedthat both his companions were still in safety. 

"The skunk ought to be wounded, " said he; "my shot caused him to tumbleout of his saddle. You were perhaps more fortunate than I? I heardyour piece speak--have you throwed him, Pepe?"

Pepe shook his head in the negative. 

"If you mean the fellow in the yellow jacket, " said he, "I fancy thedevil has _him_ under his protection; for I had a fair sight on him--andyet he's off! He's not alone, however; there are four other horsemenalong with him; and in one of these gentleman I have recognised him whomthey here call Don Estevan de Arechiza, but who is no other than--"

"I have seen only the fellow in the leather jacket, " interrupted theCanadian; "and here is his gun, Fabian, for you. But are you quitesafe?" continued he, in an anxious tone. "You are sure you are notwounded?"

"No, no--my friend--my father!" cried Fabian, flinging himself into thetrapper's arms, as if they had just met after a long separation. 

"Oh, Pepe!" cried the Canadian, his eyes filling with tears, as hepressed Fabian convulsively against his great bosom, and then held himat a distance as if to get a better view of him. "Is he not grand? Ishe not beautiful? He--once my little Fabian--oh!"

"Pepe has told me all, " said Fabian. "Among these men is the murdererof my mother. "

"Yes, " exclaimed Pepe; "and by the Virgin of Atocha let us not delayhere. There is no time for sentiment--the villain must not escape us. Justice, so long evaded, must now have its due. "

"As God wills!" rejoined Fabian. 

The three friends now held a rapid council as to what course was best tobe taken. It was concluded by their resolving to follow the horsemen asrapidly as possible along the road which these had taken--the road toTubac. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. 

THE BLOOD OF THE MEDIANAS. 

After having uselessly discharged their carbines several times, from toogreat a distance for the balls to be dangerous, Oroche and Baraja hadrejoined Cuchillo. 

The outlaw was as pale as death; the ball fired at him by the Canadianhad creased his head, and it was this had caused him to fall from hishorse. Doubtless Bois-Rose would then have crushed him, like a venomousreptile, but for the horse. The noble animal, seeing that his mastercould not raise himself unaided, bent down that he might seize his mane, and so reach the saddle, and when he felt his master once more firmlyseated on his back, he had set off at full gallop, and carried him awaybeyond the reach of Bois-Rose. 

This was not the only danger run by the outlaw. When his accompliceshad rejoined him and all three had come up with Don Estevan and Diaz, another danger was in store for him. The Spaniard had no need tointerrogate Cuchillo in order to learn that Fabian had once moreescaped. From the disappointed air of the two followers, and thepaleness of the outlaw, who was still tottering in his saddle, DonEstevan guessed all. 

Deceived in his expectation, the rage of the Spaniard burst out. Herode up to Cuchillo, crying, in a voice of thunder, "Cowardly and clumsyknave!" and in his blind fury, without reflecting that Cuchillo aloneknew the secret of the Golden Valley, he drew his pistol. Luckily forthe outlaw, Pedro Diaz threw himself quickly between him and DonEstevan, whose fury gradually subsided. 

"And those men who are with him--who are they?" cried he. 

"The two tiger-killers, " replied Baraja. 

A short deliberation took place in a low voice between Don Estevan andPedro Diaz, which ended by these words, pronounced aloud:

"We must destroy the bridge of the Salto de Agua, and the devil is in itif they overtake us before we reach Tubac;" and at this they all set offat full gallop. 

Fabian had heard Don Estevan say to Cuchillo, the night before, that heshould only pass two hours at the hacienda before his departure; and asthe last events which had taken place at Don Augustin's must have tendedto shorten his stay, there was no time to hesitate. The horse of Pepebecame a precious auxiliary in following the fugitives, and, ifnecessary, for cutting off their retreat. It remained to be decided whoshould mount him, and undertake an enterprise so perilous as opposingsingly the flight of five armed horsemen. 

"I shall follow them, " said Fabian. 

So saying, he rushed towards the animal, who recoiled in terror; butseizing the cord by which he was tethered, the young man threw ahandkerchief over his eyes. Trembling in every limb, the horse remainedquiet, while Fabian brought Pepe's saddle, which he placed on his back, and then arranged the lazo so as to form at once a bridle and a snaffle. He was about to mount without removing the handkerchief, when Pepe, ata sign from Bois-Rose, interposed. 

"Gently, " said he, "if any one here has a right to mount this animal, itis I--I who captured him, and to whom he belongs. "

"Do you not see, " cried Fabian, impatiently, "that he is not _branded_, which shows that he has never yet been mounted? if you care for thesafety of your limbs, I advise you not to try him. "

"That is my business, " said Pepe, advancing; but scarcely had the animalfelt his hand on the pommel, and his foot on the stirrup, than with afurious bound he threw him ten feet off. Pepe uttered an angry oath, but Fabian vaulted into the saddle without touching the stirrups. 

"Stop! Fabian, stop!" cried Bois-Rose, in a tone of anguish, "you mustnot go alone and risk falling into their hands. "

But already Fabian had removed the handkerchief; and the noble animal, his eyes restored to the light, made furious efforts to free himselffrom a weight which he felt for the first time, but at last stoodmotionless and trembling. Bois-Rose profited by this moment to seizethe bridle, but was shaken off by another furious bound, and theterrified animal rushed away with such impetuosity that it was no longerin human power to restrain him. For a few moments the Canadian watchedthe intrepid rider struggling with the fury of the horse, and then bothdisappeared from his sight. 

"They will kill him, " cried he; "they are five to one. Let us follow asclosely as we can, Pepe, to protect once more my lately recoveredchild. "

Bois-Rose threw his rifle over his shoulder, and was already takinggigantic strides after Fabian. 

"The horse is difficult to manage, " cried he; "I am certain that he willnot go straight! we shall perhaps arrive as soon as he. Ah! DonEstevan, your evil star has guided you to these outlaws. "

Fabian, like those legendary cavaliers whom nothing appals, passed withfearful rapidity over hillocks, ravines, and fallen trunks of trees. Pepe was not wrong; in spite of the start that the pursued had of him, Fabian would soon have overtaken them, could he have guided his horse;but luckily, or unluckily for him, the intractable animal deviatedconstantly from the track; and it was only after prodigious efforts thathe could bring him back to the road, which wound through the wood, andon which the traces of the five fugitives were visible, and thus thepursuer constantly lost ground. 

However, after an hour of this struggle, the horse began to find that hehad met with his master, and that his strength was becoming exhausted;the curb, held by a vigorous hand, compressed his jaws, his speedgradually relaxed, his bounds became less violent, and he ended byobeying the hand which guided him. As if by common consent, man andhorse stopped to take breath. Fabian profited by this rest to lookaround him; his heart began to beat less rapidly and he could both hearand see. Trampled leaves, newly broken branches and the prints ofhorses' feet, were clear indications of the passage of those who fledbefore him. 

Suddenly the sound of falling water struck upon his ear. In anothermoment the fugitives would have gained the rustic bridge which crossedthe wide and deep bed of the torrent; their united efforts might destroyit, and then all pursuit would be useless. While he was seeking for aford Don Estevan would escape through the vast plains which extended toTubac. This thought aroused anew the young man's passion; and, pressinghis horse's side he galloped along the path, the windings of which stillhid his enemies from view. This time his horse had grown docile andflew along the road. 

The noise of the torrent soon drowned that of the horse's feet, butbefore long human voices mingled with it. This sound produced uponFabian as powerful an effect as his repeated blows did upon his horse; afew minutes more and he would confront the enemies whom he was burningto reach. The impetuous pace of a horse excites a man to the greatestdegree; horse and rider react upon each other, and Fabian in hisexcitement forgot the inequality of numbers, therefore the spectaclewhich met his eyes was one that caused him a bitter disappointment. 

As already stated, a bridge composed of trunks of trees roughly cut, joined the two steep banks, between which roared the Salto de Agua. This bridge, broad enough for a horse to pass over, rested at each endon the bare rock without anything to secure it, and the strength of afew men might overturn the trees and render the crossing impossible. 

Just as Fabian reached the bridge, four horses, urged on by theirriders, were pulling vigorously, with ropes attached to the trees, whichat that moment yielding, fell with a crash into the torrent. 

Fabian uttered a cry of rage. A man turned round--it was Don Estevan, but Don Estevan separated from him by an impassable barrier, and lookingtriumphantly at him. 

Fabian, his clothes torn to pieces by the brambles, and his face sotransformed by fury as to be scarcely recognisable, rushed forward inhis blind rage to cross the river. But his horse reared violently andrefused to proceed. 

"Fire on him!" cried Don Estevan, "or the madman will derange all ourplans. Fire, I tell you!"

Three carbines were already pointed at Fabian, when at some distancebehind him loud voices were heard, and Pepe and the Canadian appeared. At the sight of these formidable rifles, the outlaws hesitated; Fabianmade a new effort, but the frightened horse plunged and reared asbefore. 

"Fire!" again cried Don Estevan. 

"Woe to him who does!" shouted the Canadian, "and you, Fabian, inheaven's name, retire!"

"Yes, it is I, Fabian!" cried the Count, in a voice which drowned thethunder of the torrent and the cries of the hunters, "Fabian, who comesto avenge his mother's blood upon the infamous Don Antonio de Mediana!"

Then, while his voice still sounded in the ears of Don Estevan, who forthe first time in his life stood motionless with terror, the impetuousyoung man drew his knife and pricked his horse with it. 

This time the animal gave a furious leap across the gulf and reached theopposite bank; but one of his feet slipped, and after a short strugglehe fell backwards, both horse and rider disappearing in the flood. Acry of anguish burst from the Canadian and one of triumph from theopposite bank; but both were quickly drowned by the roar of the torrentas it closed over its double prey. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. 

A BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF THE DESERT. 

About a fortnight after the events just related, other scenes weretaking place in a part of the desert which extends from Tubac to theAmerican frontier. But before referring to the actors let us describethe theatre on which they once more met. 

The vast plains which separated Mexico from the United States are knownonly by the vague reports of hunters or gold-seekers--at least that partwatered by the river Gila and its tributaries. This river, which takesits rise in the distant mountains of the Mimbres, passes under variousnames through an immense extent of sandy barren country, the aridmonotony of which is interrupted only by the ravines hollowed by thewaters, which in their erratic course, ravage without fertilising. 

The reader must imagine himself at a spot distant about sixty leaguesfrom Tubac. The sun, inclining towards the west, was already dartingoblique rays; it was the hour when the wind, although still hot, nolonger seems to come out of the mouth of a furnace. It was about fouro'clock in the afternoon, and light white clouds tinted with rosecolour, indicated that the sun had run two-thirds of his course; above, in the deep blue sky, an eagle hung motionless over the desert, the onlyvisible inhabitant of the air. From the height where the king of birdsbalanced himself majestically, his eye could perceive on the immenseplain, many human beings, some of whom were in groups, and others at sogreat a distance apart as to be visible to him alone, and not to eachother. 

Just beneath the soaring bird was a kind of irregular natural circleformed by a hedge of cacti, with their fleshy leaves and thorny points, with which were mingled the pale foliage of the _bois de fer_. At oneend of this hedge was an elevated piece of ground two or three feethigh, with a flat top, which overlooked it on all sides. All aroundthis entrenchment, untouched by the hand of man, stretched arid plainsor a succession of little hillocks which appeared like motionless wavesin a sea of sand. 

A troop of about sixty men on horseback had alighted in this place. Thesteaming horses showed that they had travelled fast. There was aconfused noise of human voices, the neighing of horses, and the rattlingof every kind of weapon--for it did not appear to be a regular cavalrycorps. Lances with red pennons, muskets, carbines and double-barrelledguns were hanging from the saddle-bows. 

Some of the men were cleaning their horses, while others were lying onthe sand under the shelter of the cacti; a little further back were anumber of mules advancing towards the halting-place, and behind themagain, some twenty carts, heavily laden. 

Visible to the eyes of the eagle, in the road along which thesetravellers must have passed, were corpses of men and animals strewn onthe arid plain, marking the bloody track of this band of adventurers. Doubtless our readers have already recognised the Gold-seekers under thecommand of Don Estevan de Arechiza. 

When the mules and the carts joined the horsemen, the mules wereunharnessed and the horses unsaddled; the carts were unloaded and thenlinked together with iron chains, while the saddles of the animals werepiled upon one another, and served with the cacti to fill up the spacesbetween the wheels and form a formidable barricade. The animals weretied to the carts, and the cooking utensils placed by the side, of thebrushwood brought from a distance; a portable forge was established; andthis colony, which seemed as though it had risen from the ground as by amiracle, was soon busily employed, while the anvil resounded with theblows which were fashioning horses' shoes and repairing wheels. 

A man richly dressed, but whose clothes were faded with sun and dust, alone remained on horseback in the middle of the camp, looking earnestlyaround him. This man was the chief of the troop. Three other men wereoccupied meanwhile in fixing the poles of a tent, and then placing onits summit a red banner on which was painted a scutcheon with six goldenstars on an azure ground, with the motto, "I will watch. " The chiefthen alighted, and after having given an order to one of his men, whomounted and left the camp he entered the tent. All these preparationshad occupied barely half-an-hour, so much were they simplified by habit. 

To the right of the camp, but far distant, arose from the sand a mass ofgum-trees and _ironwoods_, the only trees produced by these arid plains. Here a second troop had halted. They had neither carts nor baggagemules, but were about double the number of the other party. By thebronzed complexions of the riders, some almost naked, others coveredwith skins and with waving plumes of eagle's feathers, and by thebrilliant red and yellow with which they were painted, it was easy torecognise a party of Indians. 

Ten of them--doubtless the chiefs--gravely seated round a fire whichproduced more smoke than flame, were passing from hand to hand thecalumet or pipe of council. Their arms, consisting of leathernbucklers--surrounded by a thick fringe of feathers--axes, and knives, were laid by their side. At some little distance and out of hearing, five warriors held a number of horses, strangely accoutred with woodensaddles covered with skins. These horses belonged to the chiefs, andseemed difficult to restrain. 

As one of the chiefs passed the calumet to the others, he pointed to aspot in the horizon. The eyes of a European would only have seen aslight grey cloud against the blue sky, but the Indian recognised acolumn of smoke--that rising from the camp of the whites. 

At that moment an Indian messenger arrived with some news, and all theparty crowded round him. 

Now between the two camps the eye of the eagle could discover anotherrider, but alone and out of sight of both parties. It was doubtless hewho was being sought for by the messenger despatched from the camp ofthe gold-seekers. This man rode a grey horse, and seemed to be seekinga track; he was dressed as a European; and his complexion, though muchbronzed, denoted that he belonged to that race. 

It was Cuchillo, who, resuming his course, caused his horse to mount oneof the hillocks, where he could perceive the columns of smoke arisingfrom the two camps. The Indians perceived him at the same time; for along howl, like that of a hundred panthers, arose, and the king ofbirds, terrified by the tumult, soon became only a black speck in theclouds. The outlaw fled rapidly in the opposite direction and theIndians rushed after him. 

Still further in the horizon, placed so as to form a triangle with theother camps, was a third group of men scarcely visible to the eaglehimself. They were encamped upon a small islet in the midst of a riverfringed with trees, and over which rested a light fog. The desert ofTubac ended at this river, which, flowing from east to west, divided, aleague below the island, into two branches, and formed a vast delta--bounded by a chain of hills which were now shrouded by the fog. 

In this delta, more than a league square, lay the Golden Valley. 

All these different groups of people will soon meet, like the waveswhich, raised by opposing winds, break against each other in theimmensity of the ocean. 

Thanks to a skillful manoeuvre of Pedro Diaz, the expedition, onarriving near the Golden Valley, had concealed for two days from theIndians the route they had taken. But to associate himself with sixtycompanions did not please Cuchillo, who, under the pretence ofreconnoitring the country, had separated himself from his companions. It was to indicate the position of their bivouac that they had lighted afire in the camp, and to find him that Don Estevan had sent out amessenger. Cuchillo, indeed, was the only one who could guide them tothe Golden Valley. 

A bold thought was in Cuchillo's mind, but the executions of thisproject was yet to lead him to a fearful punishment, which he welldeserved. We cannot, however, speak of this at present. 

A man, as we have said, had arrived at the Indian camp with news. Thisman, in seeking the enemies whom they were pursuing, had reached thebank of the river, and concealed by the willows, had perceived threewhite men. These three men could only be Bois-Rose, Pepe the Spaniard, and Fabian de Mediana. It was indeed this trio of friends. 

We left Bois-Rose and Pepe on the banks of the torrent in which theyoung Spaniard, excited by the tale he had heard of his mother'sassassination, and full of fury, had nearly found a tomb. Fortunatelythe fall had been fatal only to the horse, and the rider had escaped bya miracle. The three friends had resumed their pursuit; but, forced toproceed on foot while their enemies were on horseback, they had onlyarrived at Tubac on the day the expedition left it, after havingtravelled sixty leagues in five days. 

Then it became more easy to follow the adventurers--who were retarded bytheir baggage--and ten days' march had brought the intrepid companionsto the same point as their enemies; for although forced for safety totake a different route, they had rarely lost sight of the fires of theirbivouacs. Surrounded as he was, however, Don Estevan could not beeasily captured. 

When the Indian messenger had finished his report, the warriorsdeliberated afresh. The youngest of the ten called upon to speak first, said:

"The whites have sometimes the legs of a deer, sometimes the courage ofthe puma, and the cunning of the jackal. They have concealed theirroute for two days from eyes which can trace that of the eagle in theair; it is another ruse on their part to scatter their warriors, and wemust seek them near the island in river Gila. "

After a minute's silence, another spoke:

"The whites have doubtless a thousand stratagems at their service, butcan they increase their stature? No; and if on the contrary they couldmake themselves so small that the Indian eye could not perceive them, they would do it. Our enemies are from the south--these men justdiscovered come from the north--it is not therefore towards the islandthat we must go. "

In the midst of these contradictory opinions, the shouts of the Indians, at the sight of Cuchillo, burst forth, compelling the chiefs to suspendtheir deliberations until the warriors who pursued him had returned. When they reappeared, they reported that they had discovered the trailof the whites. Then the second chief who had spoken--a man of tallstature and darker in colour than most of his tribe--whence his name ofthe _Blackbird_--again spoke:

"I have said that the men who come from the north could not form part ofthose who come from the south. I have always seen that the south andthe north are enemies of one another like the winds which flow fromopposite quarters. Let us send a message to the three warriors on theisland and ask them to join us against the other whites, and the Indianwill be gladdened at the death of his enemies by the hands of eachother. "

But this advice, dictated by prudence and knowledge of mankind, found nosupport in the council. The Blackbird was forced to yield, and it wasagreed that the mass of the troop should march against the camp, whileonly a small detachment should be sent to the island. 

A quarter of an hour after, one hundred men set off for the camp; whiletwenty others went towards the island, thirsting for the blood of thethree men who had taken shelter there. 

It is towards the end of the month of March that we find thegold-seekers and their chief in the camp described, after they had lostby the Indians and by the numberless dangers of the desert, forty oftheir men. But although weakened by this loss, still the chancesbetween them and the Indians, ever ready to defend their territory, werenearly equal. On each side was cunning, and the habit of following analmost invisible track, while the cupidity of the one was equalled bythe ferocity of the other. 

Nevertheless the enthusiasm was no longer so great as on the day when, after having celebrated a mass for the success of their expedition, theadventurers had set off from Tubac, uttering cries of triumph, whichwere accompanied by the sound of cannon and the acclamations of theinhabitants. No precaution had been omitted by Don Estevan, who seemedto foresee everything. Until then, in these kind of expeditions, eachman had acted for himself, and trusted to himself and his own horse forhis safety; but the Spaniard had disciplined this band, and forced themto obey him, while the carts that he had brought served both fortransport and for defence. Thus moved the ancient people of the northin their invading journeys towards the south of Europe. No formerexpedition had penetrated so far into the desert as had this one, underthe guidance of its skillful chief. 

The responsibility which weighed upon Don Estevan would of itself havebeen enough to account for the clouds upon his brow; but perhaps hethought more of the past than of the present or the future. He had beenable to compare the energy of Fabian with the pusillanimity of theSenator Tragaduros. Carried away by the course of events, he hadthought only of removing his nephew from his path; but when the youngman disappeared in the gulf shouting a fierce menace to his father'sbrother, he had suddenly felt an immense void, and a scarcely-closedwound had re-opened in his heart. He missed one thing amidst all hisprosperity, and in spite of himself, the pride of race revived in hisbreast, and an ardent sympathy had seized upon him for the ardent youngman, loved by Dona Rosarita, who might perhaps have replaced the Senatorin the execution of his bold plan. 

He regretted having allowed himself to be led away by circumstances, andat the moment when the last of the Medianas--except himself--disappearedfrom his eyes, he regretted an heir so worthy to bear the name. Now, when on the eve of mounting another step by the conquest of the GoldenValley, this regret became more vivid. 

This was not the only care, however, which then preoccupied Antonio deMediana; the absence of Cuchillo made him uneasy, and he began to have asuspicion of this man's perfidy. 

Cuchillo had gained considerably upon the Indians who pursued him; butno sooner did he perceive through the hedge the entrenchment raised byhis companions than he slackened his pace. The distance at which hestill was from the camp was too great to enable him to be perceived bythe sentinels; and when he saw the Indians who pursued him halt at sightof the column of smoke, he stopped altogether. His plan was to go intothe camp as late as possible, so as only to give the alarm at the lastmoment. He knew enough of the Indians to play this dangerous game withthe most perfect _sang froid_; he knew that they never attacked but withsuperior numbers, also that some hours would elapse before they decidedon attacking the camp at all; that, satisfied with having recovered thetrack of their enemies, his pursuers would return and carry the reportto their companions. 

He was right; and enchanted at the effect of his ruse, the outlaw laydown behind a mound of earth, ready to resume his course when his sensesshould warn him of the approach of danger. By regaining the camp only afew minutes before the attack, he hoped also to escape the questions ofDon Estevan. 

"We should have sixty to divide the treasure, " thought he, "had I nottaken care to diminish that number. Then, while the whites and reds arefighting together, I--"

A distant explosion, like that of a rifle, interrupted his meditations. This sound appeared to come from the north, and indeed proceeded fromthe river, where were Bois-Rose and his companions. 

"It is strange that such a sound should proceed from that quarter, " saidCuchillo, "for the white camp is eastward and the red westward. "

A second shot was heard; then a third, followed by a short silence, towhich succeeded a continual firing. Cuchillo trembled. He fancied thata second white party, distinct from his, were about to seize the covetedtreasures. Then he feared that Don Estevan had despatched a detachmentto take possession of the Golden Valley. But reason soon showed him thelittle probability of either of these surmises. A party of men musthave left traces which he should have discovered during the two days hehad been scouring the country; and then it was not probable that DonEstevan would have dared to weaken his force by dividing it. Hetherefore lay still, and concluded that the sounds proceeded from someparty of American hunters surprised by the natives. 

We must return to the camp of Don Antonio, where the firing had alsobeen heard, and where it had given rise to a host of conjectures. 

Evening had come on, and red clouds marked the fiery trace of thesetting sun; the earth began to freshen up at the approach of night, andthe crescent of the moon to grow more and more brilliant, under thelight of which the camp appeared picturesque. 

On the rising ground which overlooked the whole entrenchment, arose, aswe have said, the chief's tent with its floating banner. A feeble lightfrom within indicated that he was still watching, and several fires, made in holes dug in the sand or surrounded by stones--lest their lightshould betray their position--threw a subdued red glare around; while, in case of attack, fagots were prepared to illumine the camp. Groups ofmen lying down, and others preparing the evening meal, were mingled withthe horses and mules, who were eating their rations of maize. 

The careless and satisfied look upon every face, showed that these menconfided the care of their defence wholly to their chief. At theentrance to the tent lay a man, like a dog watching over his master; andfrom his long hair and the guitar by the side of his rifle, it was easyto recognise Oroche. His time seemed to be divided between thecontemplation of a heaven glittering with stars, and the care of keepingup a fire of green wood, the smoke of which rose in a vertical columnsilvered by the moon. Beyond the entrenchments the moonlight whitenedthe plain, and even the fog which covered the summits of a chain ofmountains which were visible in the horizon. 

Behind the carts paced the sentinels, carbine in hand. Among thevarious groups of men scattered about were Benito, the servant of DonEstevan, and Baraja. They were engaged in conversation. 

"Senor Benito, " said Baraja, speaking to the old herdsman, "you who areso well acquainted with all the affairs of these deserts, can youexplain to me what is the cause of these shots, which we have beenhearing ever since noon, and which can only be fired by our enemies, theIndians?"

"It is difficult to say, " answered Benito; "but certainly they must havesome good reason for wasting so much powder--a scarce article amongthem. It appears probable enough that poor Cuchillo is captured; or maybe the Senor Gayferos, who was sent after him. "

"But why should they keep firing from time to time?--one shot would beenough to put an end to either Cuchillo or Gayferos; whereas we haveheard volleys. "

"Ah! it may be that the savages are practising one of their horriblemodes of punishment--perhaps they are firing at their victims merely forthe sport. There is one terrible torture they inflict--I remember tohave been--"

"Hold there, friend Benito!" cried Baraja, interrupting him, "no more ofyour horrible stories; I have not forgotten that frightful night by thewell of La Poza. "

"Well, " rejoined the herdsman, "unless they are firing at eitherCuchillo or Gayferos--or perhaps at both--I cannot divine the cause oftheir continued fusillade. These Indians are as curious as the verydevil; and they can extract a secret almost as effectually as the HolyInquisition itself. Perhaps they are frightening either the guide orGayferos to betray the situation of our camp. "

"God forbid they should succeed!" exclaimed Baraja. 

"I join you in the prayer, " said the ex-herdsman: "but I cannot helpremarking, how imprudent in our chief to permit the fire. The smoke hasbeen rising all day like a column. In an atmosphere like this it may beseen for leagues off!"

"I agree with you, " replied Baraja; "but then you know it was kindled atthe express wish of the guide--so that he might find the way to where weshould be encamped. Both humanity towards Cuchillo, as well as our owninterest in his safety, required us to light the fire. "

"Ah! that is not so certain. Between ourselves, I haven't muchconfidence in this Cuchillo. He appears to be one of those guides whosepaths always end in quagmires. "

"But have you not heard the rumour of the camp?"

"What rumour? That Don Estevan is not going by mere hazard to searchfor a mine of gold; but that he already knows of the existence of a richplacer? Is it that you mean?"

"Yes--or rather that Don Estevan knows of the existence of the placer;but not _where_ it is, or the road that leads to it. This is only knownto Cuchillo, whose death would therefore be an irreparable loss to allof us. "

"Bah!" replied the ex-herdsman, with a shake of the head; "Cuchillo'sface is one that could never deceive an experienced eye. For my part Ihope I am deceived in him, though I doubt it. "

"Oh, Senor Benito, you always look upon the dark side of things. "

"Well, perhaps so--and on this very night I may especially appear a birdof ill omen, for I cannot help feeling the presentiment that there isdanger near us. See! look yonder! The animals have left off eating--both mules and horses. Observe how they stand listening, as if theyheard something. Well, what is to come will come; and I have not muchto lose--even my life is not worth much. "

And with this consolatory speech the old shepherd wrapped himself up inhis cloak and lay down to sleep. 

Not so Baraja. The words of his comrade had produced their effect, andhe was unable to compose himself to rest. His imagination depicted tohim a thousand phantoms, and every moment he fancied he could hear theyells of the savages, as they rushed forward to attack the camp. Notthat the ex-haciendado was altogether a coward; but there was reason forhis fears; and the darkness of the night, as well as the strangebehaviour of the animals, was sufficient cause to render even a braveman apprehensive of danger. 

After the long day's march, all the adventurers were asleep--stretchedhere and there upon the ground. The sentinels alone were awake, andwatching--now and then raising along the lines their monotonous cry of"_Sentinela alerte_!" It was the only sound that for a long timeinterrupted the silence of the night. 

After remaining awake for a considerable time, Baraja began to feelconfidence, and perhaps would have gone to sleep, like the others, whenall at once he heard several shots, similar to those that had been heardduring the day, and which appeared to proceed from the same direction. 

"They are still firing over there, " said he, nudging the old herdsman soas to awake him. 

"No matter, " grumbled Benito; "let them fire away. If it be notCuchillo or Gayferos, we needn't care. So, friend Baraja, I wish yougood-night--go to sleep yourself. In the desert, time for sleep isprecious, although at any minute you may be sent to sleep in eternity--Good-night!"

After this terrifying speech, the ex-herdsman drew his cloak over hiseyes to keep out the rays of the moon, when a noise made by the mulescaused him to raise his head again, "Ah!" said he, "the red devils arenot far off. "

The neigh of a horse was now heard from a distance, accompanied by a cryof alarm, and the next moment a man was seen riding up at full gallop. 

"It is Cuchillo, " cried the servant; then, in a low voice, to Baraja, "Let the travellers take care when the will-o'-the-wisp dances on theplain!"

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. 

THE ALARM. 

That evening, as usual, Don Estevan watched in his tent, while hispeople reposed. By the light of a smoky candle, the Spaniard, in spiteof the modest appearance of his lodgings and of his dust-coveredclothes, seemed to have lost nothing of the dignity of his appearance orof his grand air. His complexion, more sunburnt than usual, gave hiscountenance a still more energetic character. He appeared pensive, buthis thoughts were no longer so uneasy as they had been; on the eve, after so many dangers, of realising his vast designs, Don Estevan had, for the time at least, shaken off gloomy thoughts, and fixed his mind onthe hope of a success which he believed infallible. 

He had raised the canvas, which served as a door, in order to glanceupon the men who reposed around, and seemed to wish to compare his meansof action with the aim he was pursuing. 

"Nearly twenty years ago, " thought he, "I commanded a party of sailors, nearly equal in number, and as determined as these. I was then only anobscure younger son, and they aided me to recover my inheritance--yes, it was mine. But I was then in the flower of my age, and had an aim inthe future to pursue. I have attained this aim--I have even surpassedit; and now that I have nothing more to desire, I find myself, in mymature age, scouring the desert as I formerly scoured the sea. Why?"

The conscience of Mediana cried to him, that it was in order to forgetone day of his life, but at that moment he wished to remain deaf to itsvoice. The moon shone upon the firearms piled in the centre of thecamp, and cast its light upon sixty men inured to peril and fatigue, andwho laughed at heat and thirst. In the distance a luminous vapourrested upon the mountains beyond which lay the Golden Valley. 

"Why?" repeated Don Estevan; "because there remains to me still animmense treasure and a vast kingdom to conquer. "

The eyes of Mediana sparkled with pride; then this expression passedaway, and he fixed on the horizon a melancholy look. 

"And yet, " continued he, "what of this treasure shall I keep for myself?Nothing. The crown will be placed on the head of another, and I shallnot even have a son or any descendant bearing the name of Mediana, whoone day might bow before my portrait and say, `This man could be temptedneither by gold nor by a throne. ' But they will say it of me now, andis not that enough?"

At this moment Pedro Diaz raised the door of the tent, and said, "Yousent for me, Senor Don Estevan?"

"I wish to speak to you of important things, which I could not doyesterday, and ought to do to-day; I have some questions to ask; andalthough this is the hour for repose, they must not be adjourned. If Ido not deceive myself, Diaz, you are one of those men who repose onlywhen they have nothing better to do. The ambitious are such, " added DonEstevan, with a smile. 

"I am not ambitious, Senor, " replied the adventurer quietly. 

"You are so without knowing it, Diaz; and I will prove it to you, presently. But first tell me what you think of this distant firing?"

"Men meet on the sea whose surface is incomparably more extensive thanthat of this desert; it is not astonishing that they should meet here. Travellers and Indians have encountered one another, and are fighting. "

"That is what I think. One more question and then we will return to thefirst subject which I have at heart. Has Cuchillo returned?"

"No, Senor, and I much fear that we have lost the guide who hasconducted us till now. "

"And to what do you attribute this strange absence?" asked Don Estevan, with an anxious look. 

"Probably he has gone too far upon the track of the Apaches, and hasbeen surprised by them. In that ease his absence may prove eternal, inspite of the fires which we have lighted for two days to show him ourencampment. "

"Is that really your idea?" said the chief, looking fixedly at Diaz. 

"It is; although, to say the truth, Cuchillo is one of those people whomone is rarely wrong in accusing of perfidy; but I do not see what objecthe could have in betraying us. "

Don Estevan pointed to the fog which hid the tops of the mountains inthe horizon. "The neighbourhood of those mountains, " said he, "mightexplain the absence of Cuchillo. " Then, with a changed tone, "Are ourmen still of the same mind. "

"Yes, Senor, and have more confidence than ever, in the chief whowatches while they sleep, and fights like the humblest of them. "

"I have battled in many parts of the world, " said Don Estevan, sensibleto praise, the sincerity of which he believed in, "and I have rarelycommanded men more determined than these. Would they were five hundredinstead of sixty, for then on the return of this expedition my projectswould be easy of accomplishment. "

"I am ignorant what these projects are, of which you now speak to me forthe first time, " said Diaz in a reserved tone. "But perhaps Don Estevanthinks me ambitious, only because he does me the honour to judge me byhimself. "

"It is possible, friend Diaz, " replied Don Estevan, smiling; "the firsttime that I saw you I thought that your mind was of the same stamp as myown. We are made to understand each other, I am sure. "

The Mexican had all the vivacious intelligence of his country; he hadjudged Don Estevan, but he waited for him to take the initiative. Hetherefore bowed and kept silence. 

The Spaniard pushed open the curtains of the tent, and, pointing onemore to the horizon, "Another day's march, " said he; "and we shallencamp at the foot of those mountains. "

"Yes, we are scarcely six leagues distant. "

"And do you know what is below that mass of fog which crowns their top?"

"No, " replied the Mexican. 

Don Estevan cast upon Diaz a look which seemed as if meant to penetratehis soul, at the moment of revealing a secret until then so carefullykept. The Spaniard wished to assure himself that the confidant he wasabout to choose was worthy of his confidence. The honest look of Diaz--on whose countenance could be traced none of that cupidity which spurredon his companions--reassured him, and he went on:

"Well, it is towards those mountains that we have been marching. Ishall now tell you why I have directed the expedition to this place, asthe pilot conducts the ship to some point in the ocean known only tohimself; this evening you shall read my mind clearly. That mass of fog, which the sun itself will not wholly disperse, serves as a veil totreasures which have been amassing perhaps from the beginning of theworld. For centuries the rains have been washing them into the plains:the whites only suspected, and the Indians spared them; to-morrow theyshall be ours! This has been my aim. Well, Diaz! do you not fall onyour knees to thank God for being one of those called to share in thesetreasures?"

"No, " replied Diaz, simply; "cupidity would not have made me brave thedangers that a wish for revenge has done. I would have sought from thework of my arms what others seek by easier, if by less sure, methods. But the Indians have ravaged my fields, pillaged my flocks, and murderedmy father and brothers. Of my people I alone escaped. Since that timeI have made fierce war upon the savages, have slain many, have soldtheir sons by dozens, and it is still the hope of vengeance which bringsme here--neither ambition nor cupidity. But I love my country and allthat I should care for riches would be to enable me to make a lasteffort against that distant congress which tyrannises over but cannotprotect us. "

"Good! friend Diaz!" cried the Spaniard, holding out his hand to theadventurer, and then added with vehemence:

"Strong by the aid of this gold, I will confide my plans to those sixtymen now buried in sleep. On our return our numbers will swell like thestream which widens as it flows, and we shall shake off the yoke of acapital--which is capable only of constantly changing its men and itsprinciples. "

Don Estevan had already noticed, in former conversations with Diaz, hisgreat hatred of the federal system, but wishing to be sure whether ornot it was founded on personal motives, he continued--

"The congress is far from you, and the government of Mexico has neithertroops nor money to protect provinces so distant as yours. Is that theonly reproach you have to make of it!"

"The only reproach! No. Independence is for us but an empty name, andwe have to bear only the burden of a distant government. "

Don Estevan now unveiled to Diaz the project which he had discussed withthe Senator. Then passing from principles to persons, he named theKing, Don Carlos, as him whom they were to introduce. 

"A king! King Charles! so be it, " replied Diaz, "but we shall have manyobstacles to overcome. "

"Less than you imagine, Diaz. Gold will level all obstacles, andto-morrow we shall gather it by handfuls. We will pave the way to thenew kingdom with gold, and pay largely the founders and guardians of athrone which will want only its king. "

Thus, as he had promised his master, the bold partisan laid, even in thedesert, the foundation of a future dynasty. What the influence of theSenator was to effect in the congress, that of a man renowned by hisexploits was to obtain from his equals. 

After this conversation Diaz retired to seek repose from his fatigues, and Don Estevan accompanied him out of the tent. The latter threwaround him a glance of tranquil pride; all obstacles were surmounted, the incessant vigilance of the Indians had been eluded, thanks to Diaz, and an immense treasure, untouched since the commencement of the world, awaited only the hands which were about to be extended to seize it. 

"See!" said he, "from those will rise the elements of a new kingdom, andour names will belong to history. Now I have but one fear--that is, treachery on the part of Cuchillo--and you will share this fear with mewhen you hear that it is he who sold me the secret of this goldendeposit. "

Diaz was looking earnestly at the plain. 

"There!" cried he, "I see a man approaching at full gallop: it isGayferos or Cuchillo?"

"Pray God it be the latter, " said Don Estevan. "I prefer having himnear rather than far from my sight. "

"I think I recognise his grey horse. "

In a minute, indeed, they recognised Cuchillo himself. 

"To arms! to arms!" cried the guide, "here are the Indians, " and herushed precipitately through the opening made for him by the sentinels. 

"Cuchillo! the Indians! both names of bad augury, " said Don Estevan, ashe turned towards his companion. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. 

THE ATTACK. 

At the cry of Cuchillo, which resounded throughout the camp, theSpaniard and Diaz exchanged looks of intelligence. 

"It is strange that the Indians should have found our trail again?" saidDon Estevan, interrogatively. 

"Very strange, " replied Diaz, and without saying another word, bothdescended from the eminence, on which they stood. 

The camp was already in motion, and confusion reigned everywhere; therewas a general movement among these intrepid men, who were accustomed tosuch surprises, and who had already more than once measured theirstrength with their implacable enemies. Each armed hastily, but soonthe tumult subsided, and all stationed themselves at the posts assignedto them in case of attack. The first who interrogated Cuchillo were theshepherd and Baraja. 

"Unless you drew the Indians on to our track, how could they havediscovered us?" said the former, with a suspicious look. 

"Certainly it was I, " replied Cuchillo, impudently. "I should haveliked to have seen you pursued by a hundred, of these demons, andwhether you would not, like me, have galloped to the camp to seek anasylum!"

"In such a case, " replied Benito, severely, "a man to save hiscompanions, does not fly, but gives up his life sooner than betray them. I should have done so. "

"Every one in his own way, " replied Cuchillo, "but I have an account torender only to the chief, and not to his servants. "

"Yes, " murmured the other, "a coward and a traitor can but commitbaseness and perfidies. "

"Are the Indians numerous?" asked Baraja. 

"I had not time to count them; all that I know is that they must benear. "

And crossing the camp he proceeded to where Don Estevan--after havingattended to the most important precautions--stood at the door of histent waiting for him. As Cuchillo went on without replying to any ofthe questions with which he was assailed, a man advanced with a lightedtorch in his hand to set fire to the fagots piled in various places, butDon Estevan cried--

"Not yet; it is, perhaps, a false alarm, and until we have the certaintyof attack we must not light up the camp to betray ourselves. "

At the words "false alarm, " a smile played over Cuchillo's features. 

"However, " added Don Estevan, "let every one saddle his horse and beprepared. " Then he returned to his tent, making a sign to Diaz toaccompany him. 

"That means, friend Baraja, " said Benito, "that if the orders are givento light the fires, we are sure to be attacked--at night too; it isterrible. "

"Who knows that better than I?" said Baraja, "have you ever been presentat such a thing?"

"Never; that is why I dread it so much. "

"Well, if you had, you would dread it more. "

Cuchillo, as he drew near the tent, arranged his countenance and threwback his long hair--as though the wind had blown it about in his rapidflight--and then entered the tent like a man out of breath andpretending to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. Oroche hadglided in with Diaz. 

Cuchillo's story was brief: in reconnoitring the places towards whichthe expedition should advance, he had gone further than was prudent. 

Diaz interrupted him. 

"I had taken such precautions to deceive the Indians by false tracks, "said he, "I had so misled them, that you must have quitted the line ofmarch and gone from right to left. "

"Yes, " replied the outlaw, "I lost my way, deceived by the monotony ofthese endless plains where each hillock resembles the other. "

"What!" cried Diaz, ironically. "Had a dweller in cities been sodeceived it might be believed; but you--fear must have thrown a mistbefore your eyes!"

"Fear!" replied Cuchillo; "I know it no more than you do. "

"Then you must be growing shortsighted, Senor Cuchillo. "

"However it happened, I lost myself; and, but for the column of smoke, Ishould not have regained my way so quickly. I was, however, forced tomake a circuit on perceiving a party of Indians, and only owe the startI have got upon them to the speed of my good horse. "

As he spoke, Don Estevan frowned more than once. Oroche left the tent, but immediately re-entering, said--

"The Indians are there! Look at those black shadows on the plain overwhich the moon throws a distant light; those are men sent to reconnoitreour encampment. "

Over the sand of the desert they could indeed see men on horsebackadvancing, and then disappearing in the shadows of the sand heaps. 

Pedro Diaz consulted an instant with Don Estevan, and then criedloudly--

"Light the fires everywhere! we must count our enemies. "

A few minutes after, a red light, almost as bright as the sun, lit upthe whole camp, and showed the adventurers at their post, rifles inhand; while the horses stood saddled and bridled, only waiting for theirriders in case of a sortie being necessary. At the same time DonEstevan's tent was struck, and a calm succeeded to the tumult. 

The desert was silent also; the moon no longer shone on the Indians, whohad all disappeared like a bad dream chased away by the return ofmorning. It was a dead silence--the precursor of the storm--and thereseemed in this silence something fearful. It did not announce one ofthose surprises in which an enemy inferior in number disguises hisweakness under the impetuosity of his attack, and ready to run if he isresisted: it was the respite before the combat, granted by pitilessenemies, preparing for a deadly struggle. 

"Yes, trust to me, " said old Benito to Baraja, "in a quarter of an houryou will hear the howlings of these red devils sound in your ears likethe trumpets of the last judgment!"

"Carramba! you are the most skilled man about tigers and Indians that Iever met with, but you might be more consoling. I wish to God I coulddoubt the truth of your words!"

"There are some things always easy to foresee, " continued the old man. "One may predict to the traveller who goes to sleep in a bed of atorrent that he will be carried away by the waters; and that Indians whohave discovered their enemies will draw off a little, and count theirmen before making an attack. One may also predict that several of themwill utter their death-cry, as many among us will have to say their lastprayer; but who those will be no one can say. Do you know any prayersfor the dying, Senor Baraja?"

"No, " replied the latter, dolefully. 

"I am sorry for that; those are little services that friends may rendereach other, and if I had the grief, as is very possible, of seeing youfirst scalped then murdered--"

Further conversation was interrupted by outcries which seemed drawingnear to the camp. In spite of the terrifying words of the old shepherd, his _sang froid_ in the greatest perils and his resolution full ofconsoling fatalism, sustained the more wavering courage of Baraja. 

As he shuddered at the horrible sounds--which must be heard to beappreciated--he cast upon Benito a glance in order to catch from him alittle of his philosophy. For the first time a cloud of sadnessappeared on the ex-herdsman's brow, and his eyes looked as though tearsstood in them. Baraja was struck by the change, and laid his head uponthe old man's arm. Benito raised his head. 

"I understand you, " said he, "but man has his moments of weakness. I amlike him who is called from his hearth by the sound of the trumpet at atime he least thought to quit it. Amidst those howls I hear from abovethe sound of the last trumpet calling me, and although I am old, itgrieves me to go. I leave neither wife nor children to regret, northose who would weep for me; but there is an old companion of mysolitary life from whom I cannot separate without grief. It is at leasta consolation for the Indian warrior to know that his war-horse willshare his tomb, and to believe that he shall find him again in the landof spirits. How many times have we scoured the woods and the plainstogether. How often have we borne together heat, hunger, and thirst!This old and faithful friend is my horse, as you may have guessed. Igive him to you, friend Baraja. Treat him kindly--love him as I lovehim, and he will love you as he loves me. His companion was killed by atiger, and he will now be left alone. "

So saying, the old man pointed to a noble courser, champing his bitproudly, among the other horses. He then went towards him, caressedhim, and, this moment of weakness over, his countenance recovered itshabitual serenity. As he recovered his calmness, he renewed hispredictions, careless of the terror he excited in others. 

"Listen!" said he to Baraja; "to recompense you for the care you willtake of my old friend, I shall teach you, while there is still time, averse of the psalm for the dying, that may serve you as--"

"Well!" said Baraja, as he did not go on, "what more terrifying thingshave you to say?"

Benito did not reply, but his companion felt him press his armconvulsively, and then the sight which struck Baraja was more terriblethan any answer. The old man's eyes were rolling wildly, and he wasvainly trying to stanch the blood which flowed from a wound made by anarrow that had just pierced his throat. 

He fell, crying: "What is ordained must happen. No, " added he, repulsing the assistance that Baraja was endeavouring to render him, "myhour is come--remember--my old friend--" and the flowing blood cut shorthis speech. 

At that moment the best mounted among the Indians showed themselves inthe moonlight. Travellers who have met only with civilised Indians canwith difficulty form any idea of the savage tribes. Nothing lessresembled those degenerate Indians than these unconquered sons of thedesert; who--like the birds of prey, wheeling in the air before pouncingon their victims--rode howling around the camp. Their figures hideouslymarked with paint, were visible from time to time; their long hairstreaming in the wind, their cloaks of skins floating in their rapidcourse, and their piercing cries of defiance and bravado, giving themthe appearance of demons, to whom they have justly been compared. 

There were few among the Mexicans who had not some revenge to take onthese indefatigable spoilers, but none of them were animated by suchdeadly hatred as Pedro Diaz. The sight of his enemies produced on himthe effect that scarlet does on a bull, and he could scarcely refrainfrom indulging in one of those exploits which had rendered his nameformidable to their tribes. But it was necessary to set an example ofdiscipline, and he curbed his impatience. Besides, the moment of attackcould not be far off, and the superior position of the gold-seekerscompensated for the inequality of their numbers. 

After having assigned to each his post behind the intrenchments, DonEstevan placed on the rising ground, where his tent had stood, those ofhis men whose rifles carried farthest, or whose sight was the best, andthe fires gave light enough for their aim. As for himself, his post waseverywhere. 

The piercing eyes of the Indians, and the reports of those who hadpreceded them had doubtless instructed them as to the position of thewhites. For a moment an indecision seemed to reign among them, but thetruce did not last long. After a short interval of silence, a hundredvoices at once shrieked out the war-cry; the earth trembled under anavalanche of galloping horses; and amidst a shower of balls, stones, andarrows, the camp was surrounded on three sides by a disorderlymultitude. But a well-sustained fire proceeded from the top of thehill. 

Under this murderous discharge riderless horses were seen galloping overthe plain, and riders disengaging themselves from their wounded steeds. Before long, however, the combat became one of hand to hand; theMexicans behind their carts, the Indians trying to scale them. 

Oroche, Baraja, and Pedro Diaz pressed one against the other, sometimesretiring to avoid the long lances of their enemies--sometimes advancingand striking in their turn--encouraging each other, and never pausingbut to glance at their chief. As already stated, the report had vaguelyspread that he knew the secret of the immense riches, and cupiditysupplied to Oroche and Baraja the place of enthusiasm. 

"Carramba!" cried Baraja, "a man possessing such a secret should beinvulnerable. "

"Immortal!" said Oroche, "or only die after--"

A blow from a hatchet on his head cut short his words. He fell to theground, and but for the solidity of his hat, and the thickness of hishair, all had been over with him. His adversary, carried away by theviolence of his own blow, placed his hand for support on the shafts ofthe cart which separated them. Diaz immediately seized the Indian'sarm, and leaning on the nave of the wheel, dragged him towards him withsuch force that he fell off his horse into camp; and, almost before hetouched the ground, the Mexican's sword severed his head from his body. 

Useless now on their elevated position--for the _melee_ was so thickthat their shots might have been as fatal to friends as foes--thesharpshooters had come down and mingled with the other combatants. 

In the corner of the intrenchments where they stood, Don Estevan andCuchillo had to sustain an attack not less furious. The first, while hedefended himself, yet cast an eye over the whole of the intrenchments;but it was with the greatest difficulty that amidst the tumult he couldmake heard his orders and advice. More than once his double-barrelledrifle of English make--and which he loaded and discharged with wonderfulrapidity--stayed the knife or axe which was menacing one of his men--afeat which was greeted each time with loud hurrahs. He was, in a word, what the adventurers had seen him from the beginning of this dangerouscampaign, the chief who thought of all, and the chief who fearednothing. 

Accompanied by his horse, which followed his movements with theintelligence of a spaniel, Cuchillo stood behind the chief--as much outof the way as possible--with more prudence than bravery. He seemed tobe following with an anxious eye the chances of attack and defence: whenall at once he tottered as though struck by a mortal wound, and fellheavily behind the carts. This incident passed almost unperceivedamidst the confusion--every one being in so much danger as to be able tothink only of himself. 

"There is a coward the less, " said Don Estevan, coldly, while Cuchillo'shorse drew near him with a terrified air. 

For some minutes Cuchillo remained motionless; then, little by little, he raised his head and cast around him a glance which seemed undimmed bythe approach of death. A few minutes after, he rose on his feet, like aman to whom death lends some strength at the last, and apparently, mortally hurt, his hand on his breast, as though endeavouring to retainthe spark of life ready to escape, tottered backwards, and then fellagain some way off. His horse followed him once more; and then, ifevery one had not been too much occupied, they might have seen theoutlaw rolling over and over towards an open place in the intrenchments. He then stopped again; and finally glided under the cart wheels out ofthe camp. 

There he rose upon his legs as firm as ever, while a smile of joy playedover his lips. The darkness and the tumult favoured his manoeuvre. Hesilently unfastened the iron chains of two carts, and opened a passage. He whistled and his horse glided after him; in a second he was in thesaddle, almost without touching the stirrup; when after a moment'sthought, he spurred on the animal, who set off like the wind, and horseand rider soon disappeared in the darkness!

On both sides of the intrenchment corpses covered the ground; halfburnt-out piles of wood cast their red light upon the bloody scenes ofthis struggle; the shouts of enemies, the repeated discharge offirearms, and the whistling of bullets followed each otheruninterruptedly. The hideous figures of the Indians looked more hideousstill in the strange light. 

One point in the intrenchment had given way before the incessantattacks; and here, dead or wounded, its defenders had yielded to enemieswho seemed to swarm from the ground. At this point there was an instantof horrible confusion. A _pele mele_ of bodies interlaced, over whichappeared the plumes of the Indian warriors. Soon, however, the line ofthe adventurers, broken for an instant, reformed before a group ofIndians who were rushing like wild beasts into the middle of the camp. 

Oroche and Baraja left the point which they were still defending, andfound themselves face to face with their enemies, this time with nothingto separate them. Amidst the group of Indians, whose lances andhatchets fell indiscriminately upon horses, mules and men, the chief wasrecognisable by his vast height, the painting of his face and his greatstrength. 

It was the second time that he had faced the whites since thecommencement of the campaign, and his name was known to them. 

"Here, Diaz, " cried Baraja, "here is the _Spotted Cat_!"

At the name of Diaz, which had already reached him, the Indian chieflooked round for him who bore it, with eyes which seemed to dart flames, and raised his lance to strike Diaz, when a blow from Oroche's knifewounded his horse. The Indian thrown to the ground, let fall his lance. Diaz seized it, and while the chief raised himself on one knee andendeavoured to draw his sword, the lance which he had dropped, piercedhis naked breast, and came out between his shoulders. Although mortallywounded, the Indian uttered no cry, his eyes never lost their haughtymenace, and his face expressed only rage. 

"The Spotted Cat dies not so easily, " said he, and with a vigorous handhe seized the wood of the lance still held by Diaz. A fierce struggleensued, but at every effort of the Indian to draw Diaz towards him, andenvelop him in a last deadly clasp, the murdering, lance pierced fartherand farther. Soon his strength failed, and violently torn from his bodythe bloody weapon remained in the hands of Diaz. The Indian fell back, gave one glance of defiance, and then lay motionless upon the earth. 

Their chief fallen, the others soon shared the same fate, while theircompanions vainly tried to force the line a second time. Victims oftheir temerity, the Indians, without asking for a mercy which they nevershowed, fell like their chief facing the enemy, and surrounded by thecorpses of those who had preceded them in their journey to the land ofspirits. 

Of all the savages in the camp but one remained. He looked round himfor a minute with eyes fierce as those of the hunted tiger; then, instead of seeking to hide his presence, he uttered anew his war-cry, but it was confounded with those from without--and profiting by a momentof confusion, during which the adventurers, attacked from without, leftthe breach almost clear--he caused his horse to leap over, and foundhimself once more among his own people. 

Pedro Diaz alone saw him, and regretted his prey, but the implacableenemy of the Indians never indulged in sterile regrets. He was mountedon the war-horse presented to him by Don Augustin Pena. From his lefthand hung by the sword-knot a long Toledo rapier, with the Spanishdevice:

 Do not draw me without cause, Or sheathe me without honour. 

The blade was red with blood. Diaz shaded his eyes with his right hand, and tried to pierce the distant obscurity. All at once he perceived atthe end of the luminous zone projected by the fires, the man he wasseeking. He was making furious evolutions on his horse, and utteringshouts of defiance. Diaz remembered the speech of the haciendado aboutthe horse he had given him--"The Indian whom you pursue must be mountedon the wings of the wind if you do not catch him, " and he resolved tomake the attempt. The noble animal, excited by the spur, leaped overthe intrenchments overthrown by the Indians, and the two were soon sideby side. The Indian brandished his hatchet, Diaz his sword, and forsome seconds there was a trial of agility, courage, and address. Eachsustained his country's reputation, but the Indian's hatchet broke topieces the sword of the Mexican. The two combatants then seized oneanother round the body and tried to drag each other from their horses, but like centaurs, each seemed to form a part of the animal he bestrode. 

At last Diaz disengaged himself from his adversary's clasp, and backedhis horse, still facing the Indian. Then, when he was a little way off, he caused his horse to rear so furiously that the animal seemed for amoment to be raised over the Indian. At the same moment Diaz lifted hisright leg, and with a blow from the large heavy iron-bound stirrup, broke his adversary's skull, whom his horse carried away dead from thespot. 

This last magnificent exploit seemed to end the battle; some arrows flewharmlessly around Diaz, who was welcomed back with shouts of triumph byhis companions. 

"Poor Benito!" cried Baraja; "may God rest his soul, I regret even histerrific histories. "

"What is still more to be regretted, " interrupted Oroche, "is the deathof the illustrious Cuchillo, the guide of the expedition. "

"Your ideas are still confused from the blow you received on your head, "said Diaz, as he tried the flexibility of a new sword. "But for theillustrious Cuchillo, as you call him, we should not have lost to-nightat least twenty brave comrades. Cuchillo unluckily died a day too late, and I cannot say `God rest _his_ soul. '"

Meanwhile the Indians were deliberating. The last exploit of Diaz, thedeath that so many of their party had met with in the camp, and thosekilled by the filing, had thinned their ranks. 

The Indian never persists in a hopeless struggle: a singular mixture ofprudence and contempt of life characterises this singular race, andprudence counselled them to retreat; they did so precipitately as theyhad attacked. 

But the tactics of the white men were different; they were anxious toprofit by a victory the fame of which would penetrate to the furthestend of the desert, and render their future more secure. Therefore anorder to pursue the fugitives given by Don Estevan was received withacclamations. Twenty cavaliers instantly rushed forward, Pedro Diazamong the foremost. Sword in one hand, and lasso and bridle in theother, he was soon out of sight. 

Those who remained behind, though nearly all more or less wounded, occupied themselves first with reconstructing the intrenchment in caseof any new attack; then, overwhelmed with fatigue, hunger, and thirst, after clearing the camp of the dead bodies which encumbered it, they laydown on the earth, still wet with blood, to seek for repose. 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. 

AFTER THE FIGHT. 

In the calm which succeeded to the noise of the combat, a single manrose slowly up, and by the light of a torch which he held, examined allthe corpses lying at his feet, as if seeking to identify the livid orbloody faces of the dead. Sometimes the light fell on the strange paintof an Indian face, and the pale one of a white man, lying side by sidein an eternal sleep; occasionally a deep groan proceeded from some onewho was wounded, but the seeker did not appear to find what he sought. 

All at once, amidst the silence, a weak voice attracted his attention, and he tried in the half-light to discover whence the sound proceeded. The feeble movement of a hand guided him, and he approached the dyingman--in whom he immediately recognised Benito. 

"Ah! it is you, my poor Benito?" said he, with a look of profound pity. 

"Yes, " replied the old shepherd, "it is old Benito, dying in the desertwhere he has nearly always lived. As for me--I know not who you are; myeyes are dim. Is Baraja living?"

"I trust so; he is now pursuing the Indians, and will return in time, Ihope, to bid you a last adieu. "

"I doubt it, " replied Benito; "I wished to teach him a verse of the hymnfor the dying. I can no longer remember it now. Do you not knowsomething?"

"Not a word. "

"Ah! I must do without it, " said Benito, whose accustomed stoicism didnot forsake him even at that moment. Then, in a still more feeblevoice, he added, "I have bequeathed to Baraja an old companion--an oldfriend; whoever you may be, recommend him to observe my last request, tolove him as I did. "

"A brother doubtless. "

"Better than that; my horse. "

"I shall remind him--do not fear. "

"Thank you, " said the old man. "As for myself, I have finished mytravels. The Indians did not kill me when they took me prisoner in myyouth--now they have killed me in my old age without taking me prisoner. That--" he stopped, and then added some words in so low a tone thatthey did not reach the ear of the listener. He spoke no more; thosewere his last words, for death had abruptly ended his speech. 

"He was a brave man--peace be with him!" said the speaker, who thencontinued his search, until at last, fatigued by its uselessness, hereturned with an anxious look to his place, and after he had gone thesilence of death seemed to pervade the camp. 

Before long, however, a confused noise of voices and horses' feetindicated the return of the adventurers who had started in pursuit ofthe Indians, and by the doubtful light of the half extinct fires, theyentered the camp. 

The same man who had been recently inspecting the dead, went out to meetthem. While some of them were dismounting to open a passage through thebarricades, Pedro Diaz advanced towards him, a stream of blood flowingfrom a wound in his forehead. 

"Senor Don Estevan, " said he, "we have not been lucky in our pursuit. We have but wounded one or two of the Indians, and have lost one of ourown men. However I bring you a prisoner; do you wish to interrogatehim?"

So saying, Diaz detached his lasso from the saddle-bow, and pointed to amass held in its noose. It was an Indian, who, pitilessly dragged alongover the sand and stones, had left behind at every step pieces of flesh, and now scarcely retained any vestige of humanity. 

"He was alive when I took him, however, " cried Diaz, "but it is justlike these dogs of Indians, he must have died in order not to tellanything. "

Without replying to this ferocious jest, Don Estevan signed to Diaz toaccompany him to a place where they might converse without beingoverheard. When the new-comers had lain down and silence reigned anew, Don Estevan began:

"Diaz, " said he, "we are close on the end of our expedition: to-morrow, as I told you, we shall encamp at the foot of those mountains; but inorder that success may crown our efforts, treason must not throwobstacles in our way. It is on this subject that I wish to consult youto-night. You have known Cuchillo long, but not so long as I have; andcertainly, not as thoroughly. From his earliest youth he has alwaysbetrayed those to whom he appeared most devoted. I know not which ofall the vices with which he is endowed has the ascendant; but in a word, the sinister look of his face is but a feeble reflection of theblackness of his soul. It was he who sold to me the secret of the richand mysterious placer to which I am leading you--and of this secret hehad made himself the sole master by murdering the friend who had freelyconfided it to him, and who thought to find him a faithful companion inhis dangers. 

"I have ever, therefore, kept a watchful eye over him. Hisdisappearance for the last two days alarmed me, but it might have beenthe result of an accident common in these deserts. The attack, however, from which we have so narrowly escaped has confirmed my suspicions. Hehas advanced under our protection, until we have reached the place wherehe would, be able to seize a part of these immense treasures. He hadneed of auxiliaries in order to murder our sixty men, and the Indianswho have attacked us were but his instruments. "

"Indeed, " replied Diaz, "his report seemed to me suspicious. But thesimplest method will be to hold a court-martial, interrogate him, and ifhe be convicted of treason, let us shoot him at once. "

"At the commencement of the attack, I assigned him a post near me, inorder to watch him more easily. I saw him totter and then fallapparently mortally wounded, and I was glad to be rid of a traitor and acoward. But I have just turned over and examined all the dead, andCuchillo is not amongst them. It is therefore urgent that without lossof time we should follow him; he cannot be far off. You are accustomedto this sort of expedition; we must, without delay, set off in pursuitof him, and execute prompt justice on a villain whose life must pay forhis treachery. "

Diaz appeared to reflect for a moment, and then said, "To trace him canneither be tedious nor difficult. Cuchillo must have gone towards theGolden Valley--therefore in that direction we must seek him. "

"Go rest for an hour, for you must be worn out, " said the chief. "Ah!Diaz, if all these men were like you, how easy our path would be--goldin one hand, and the sword in the other. "

"I have only done my duty, " said Diaz, simply. 

"Say to our men that it is necessary for us to reconnoitre the environsof the camp, and tell the sentinels to keep strict watch until ourreturn, and then we shall proceed towards the valley. "

"Cuchillo must certainly be there, and we shall catch him either goingor returning. "

"We shall find him in the valley, " said Don Estevan. "When you haveseen it, you will find it a place that a man like Cuchillo could notmake up his mind to leave. "

Diaz departed to execute his orders, and Don Estevan caused his tent tobe pitched again, that even in his absence his starry banner might floatover the camp as a sign of his protective authority. This done, hethrew himself on his couch, and slept the sleep of a soldier after a dayof fighting and fatigue. 

Little more than an hour after, Diaz stood before him, "Senor DonEstevan, " said he, "all is prepared for starting. "

The chief rose and found his horse awaiting him ready saddled. 

"Diaz, " said he, "ask the sentinels if Gayferos has returned. "

Diaz questioned one of the men, who replied, "The poor fellow willprobably never return. The Indians must have surprised and killed himbefore attacking us, and that probably was the cause of the firing thatwe heard in the afternoon. "

"I fear it is but too certain that he has been murdered, " replied Diaz;"but as for the firing that we heard, I believe that had a differentorigin. "

Don Estevan now mounted his horse, and the two set off in, the directionof the mountains. 

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. 

THE ISLET. 

While the Indians, united in council, were deliberating on the means ofattacking the camp of the gold-seekers, let us see how the three men onthe island were occupied. 

It was about four o'clock, and the fog was beginning to rise slowly fromthe water. Willows and aspens grew on the shores of the river Gila, within rifle-range of the little island, and so near the water thattheir roots were in the river. The spaces between the trees were filledup by vigorous osier and other shoots; but just in front of the islandwas a large open space. This had been made by the troops of wild horsesand buffaloes, that came down to drink at the river; and through thisopening any one on the island could see clearly over the plain. 

The little island had been formed originally by trees that had takenroot in the bed of the river; other trees, some green and others withoutbranches or foliage, had rested against these, and their roots hadbecome interlaced. Since then, many summers and winters must havepassed; and grasses and sedges, detached from the banks by the water, had filled up the interstices. Then the dust, brought there by thewind, had covered these with a crust of earth, and formed a kind ofsolid ground for the floating island. Plants had grown along the banks;the trunks of the willows had sent forth vigorous shoots, and, with thereeds, had surrounded the island with a fringe of verdure. The islandwas only a few feet in diameter; but a man lying, or even kneeling uponit, was completely hidden by the willow-shoots. 

The sun was going down, and a little shade was thrown by the leaves andtrees; in this shade was stretched the form of Fabian asleep. Bois-Roseseemed to be watching over his sleep, hastily taken after the fatiguesof a long march, while Pepe refreshed himself by plunging in the water. While Fabian slumbers, we shall raise the veil by which the young Counthid from the eyes of his two friends his most secret and dearestthoughts. 

After his fall into the torrent, Pepe had forgotten that the enemy onwhom he had sworn vengeance was escaping, and both he and Bois-Rose hadthought only of rendering prompt assistance to Fabian. On returning toconsciousness, Fabian's first thought was to resume his interruptedpursuit. The acquisition of the Golden Valley, and even the remembranceof Dona Rosarita, were forgotten by the ardent wish of revenging hismother. 

Pepe, on his side, was not the man to draw back from his vow; and as forBois-Rose, his whole affections were centred in his two companions, andhe would have followed them to the end of the world. Their firstfailure, far from discouraging them, did but excite their ardour; inhatred as in love, obstacles are always a powerful stimulant to vigorousminds. The pursuit had gradually presented a double object to Fabian;it brought him near to the Golden Valley in the desert; and he nourisheda vague hope that the place pointed out to him was not the same as thatwhich the expedition led by Antonio de Mediana proposed to conquer. 

Fabian said to himself, that the daughter of Don Augustin doubtless onlyyielded obedience to the ambitious views of her father, and that itmight yet be easy for him, noble and rich, to win the day against such arival as Tragaduros. 

Still, discouragement often seized upon Fabian; he loved the daughter ofthe haciendado with his whole soul; and the thought of owing her loveonly to the treasures that he might possess, distressed him. Moreover, he felt that the ardent and jealous affection of the Canadian, hadfounded on him the sole aim of his life, and that, like the eagle whocarries away his young one and places it in an eyrie, inaccessible tothe hand of man, Bois-Rose, who had forever quitted civilised life, wished to make of him his inseparable companion in the desert; and that, to disappoint the old man would be to throw a shadow over his wholefuture life. As yet, no confidence as to their future had beenexchanged between them; but in face of a love that he believed hopeless, and of the ardent, though secret wishes of the man who now acted as afather to him, and who would half break his heart at a separation, Fabian had generously and silently sacrificed his tastes and hopes thatwould not die. He who had but to hold out his hand to seize the thingsthat the whole world desires--riches, titles, and honours--was like onewhose life tortured by an unhappy love, disclaiming the future, seekswithin the cloister forgetfulness of the past. For Fabian de Mediana, the desert was the cloister; and his mother once revenged, it onlyremained to him to bury himself in it forever. Sad and inefficacious, as a remedy, would be solitude, with its mysterious voice, and theardent contemplations that it awakens, for a passion so fondly awakenedin the young heart of Fabian. 

One single hope remained to him--that amidst the ever-renewed dangers ofan adventurous life, the day was not far distant when his life would becut short in some contest with the Indians, or in one of those desperateattempts that he meditated against the murderer of his mother. He hadcarefully hidden from the Canadian the love that he buried in the depthsof his heart; and it was in the silence of the night that he dared tolook into his own bosom. Then, like the light which shines in thehorizon above great cities, and which the traveller contemplates withjoy, a radiant and cherished image rose before his eyes in the desert, standing on that breach in the wall of the hacienda, where his lastsouvenirs carried him. But during the day, the heroic young man triedto hide under an apparent calm, the melancholy that devoured him. Hesmiled, with sad resignation, at those plans for the future which theCanadian sometimes enlarged on before him--he so happy in having foundhim, and who trembled to lose again his beloved Fabian, whose hand hehoped would one day close his eyes. The blind tenderness of Bois-Rosedid not divine the abyss under the calm surface of the lake, but Pepewas rather more clear-sighted. 

"Well, " said Pepe, after a long silence, "the inhabitants of Madridwould pay dearly for such a stream of water in the Manzanares; but wehave not the less lost a day which might have brought us nearer to theGolden Valley, and from which we cannot now be far distant. "

"I allow that, " replied Bois-Rose, "but the child, " for so he called thevigorous young man before them, "is not so accustomed as we are to longmarches, and though sixty leagues in twelve days is not very much forus, it begins to tell on him. But before he has been a year with us, hewill be able to walk as far as ourselves. "

Pepe could not help smiling at this answer, but the Canadian did notperceive it. 

"See, " said the Spaniard, pointing to Fabian, "how the poor lad haschanged in a few days. For my part, at his age, I should have preferredthe glance of a damsel and the Puerta del Sol at Madrid to all themagnificence of the desert. Fatigue alone has not produced this changein him. There is some secret which he does not tell us, but I willpenetrate it one of these days, " added Pepe mentally. 

At these words the Canadian turned his head quickly towards his belovedchild, but a smile of joy from Fabian chased away the sudden cloud fromthe brow of his adoptive father. Fabian indeed smiled; he was dreamingthat he was on his knees before Rosarita, listening to the sweet voiceof the young girl, who was recounting her anguish during his longabsence, and that Bois-Rose stood behind them leaning on his rifle andblessing them both. Ah! it was only a dream. 

The two hunters looked for a moment silently at the sleeper. 

"There lies the last descendant of the Medianas, " said Pepe, with asigh. 

"What care I for the Medianas and their powerful race?" replied theCanadian. "I know but Fabian. When I saved him, and attached myself tohim as though he had been my own, did I ask about his ancestors?"

"You will wake him if you talk so loud, " said Pepe; "your voice roarslike a cataract. "

"Why are you always recalling to me things that I do not wish to know, or rather wish to forget. I know that some years in the desert willaccustom him--"

"You deceive yourself strangely, Bois-Rose, if you imagine that with theprospects that await him in Spain, and the rights that he can claim, this young man will consent to pass his whole life in the desert. It isgood for us, but not for him. "

"What! is not the desert preferable to cities?" cried the old sailor, who vainly tried to conceal from himself that Pepe was right. "Iundertake to make him prefer a wandering life to a settled one. Is itnot for movement, for fighting, and for the powerful emotions of thedesert that man is born?"

"Certainly, " said Pepe, gravely, "and that is just why the towns aredeserted and the deserts peopled!"

"Do not jest, Pepe; I am speaking of serious things. While I leaveFabian free to follow his own inclinations, I shall make him love thiscaptivating life. Is not this short sleep, snatched hastily between twodangers, preferable to what one tastes after a day of idle security inthe towns. You yourself, Pepe--would _you_ wish to return to your owncountry, since you have known the charms of a wandering life?"

"There is between the heir of the Medianas, " replied Pepe, "and the oldcoast-guard man a great difference. To him will come a fine property, agreat name, and a beautiful Gothic castle with towers like the cathedralat Burgos; while I should be sent to fish for mackerel at Ceuta--whichis the most execrable life I know of and which I should have but onechance of escaping from--that of waking some fine morning, at Tunis orTetuan, as a slave to our neighbours the Moors. I have here, it istrue, the daily chance of being scalped or burnt alive by the Indians. Still the town is worse for me--but for Don Fabian--"

"Fabian has always lived in solitude, and will, I trust, prefer the calmof the desert to the tumult of cities. How solemn and silent is allaround us! See here!" and he pointed to Fabian, "how the child sleeps, softly lulled by the murmur of the waters, and by the breeze in thewillows. Look there, in the horizon at those fogs just coloured by thesun, and that boundless space where man wanders in his primitiveliberty, like the birds in the air!"

The Spaniard shook his head doubtfully, although he partook the ideas ofthe Canadian, and like him felt the charm of this wandering life. 

"Look, " continued the old hunter, "at that troop of wild horses comingdown to drink before going for the night to their distant pasturage. See how they approach in all the proud beauty that God gives to freeanimals--ardent eyes, open nostrils, and floating manes! Ah! I shouldalmost like to awake Fabian in order that he might see and admire them. "

"Let him sleep, Bois-Rose; perhaps his dreams show him more gracefulforms than those horses of the desert--forms such as abound in ourSpanish towns, in balconies or behind barred windows. "

Bois-Rose sighed, as he added--

"Yet this is fine sight--how these noble beasts bound with joy at theirliberty!"

"Yes, until they are chased by the Indians, and then they bound withterror!"

"There! now they are gone like the cloud driven by the wind!" continuedthe Canadian. "Now the scene changes. Look at that stag, who showsfrom time to time his shining eyes and black nose through the trees; hesnuffs the wind, he listens. Ah! now he also approaches to drink. Hehas heard a noise, he raises his head; do not the drops that fall fromhis mouth look like liquid gold? I will wake the lad!"

"Let him sleep, I tell you; perhaps his dream now shows him black eyesand rosy lips, or some nymph sleeping on the banks of a clear stream. "

The old Canadian sighed again. 

"Is not the stag the emblem of independence?" said he. 

"Yes, until the time when the wolves assemble to pursue and tear him topieces. Perhaps he would have more chance of life in our royal parks. Everything to its time, Bois-Rose; old age loves silence, youth noise. "

Bois-Rose still fought against the truth. It was the drop of gall thatis found at the bottom of every cup of happiness; it is not permittedthat there should be perfect felicity, for it would then be too painfulto die; neither is unmixed misery allowed to mortals, or it would bepainful to live. The Canadian hung his head and looked sad as heglanced at the sleeping youth, while Pepe put on his buffalo-skinbuskins. 

"Well! what did I tell you?" said he, presently; "do you not hear fromafar those howlings--I mean those barkings, for the wolves have voiceslike dogs when they hunt the stags. Poor stag! he is, as you said, theemblem of life in the desert. "

"Shall I wake Fabian now?" said Bois-Rose. 

"Yes, certainly; for after a love dream a stag hunt is the thing mostworthy of a nobleman like him, and he will rarely see such a one asthis. "

"He will see nothing like it in the towns, " cried the Canadian, enchanted; "such scenes must make him love the desert. "

And he shook the young man gently. 

With head thrown back, to inhale more freely the air necessary to hislungs, the stag flew like an arrow along the plain. Behind him a hungrypack of wolves, a few white, but the greater number black, pursued himat full speed. The stag had an immense start, but on the sand heaps, almost lost in the horizon, the piercing eye of the hunter mightdistinguish other wolves watching. The noble animal either did not see, or else disdained them, for he flew straight towards them. As he nearedthem he halted a moment. Indeed, he found himself shut in by a circleof enemies, who constantly advanced upon him as he stopped to takebreath. All at once he turned round, faced the other wolves, and triedone last effort to escape. But he could not now clear the solid massesthat had formed around him, and he fell in the midst of them. Somerolled under his feet, and two or three were tossed in the air. Then, with a wolf hanging to his flanks, bleeding and with tongue protruding, the poor animal advanced to the edge of the water, in front of the threespectators of the strange chase. 

"It is magnificent!" cried Fabian clapping his hands, and carried awayby the hunter's enthusiasm, which for the time silences humanity in theheart of men. 

"Is it not fine?" cried Bois-Rose, doubly pleased, happy at Fabian'spleasure, and at his own. "And we shall witness many such fine sights, my Fabian! here you see only the worst side of these American solitudes, but when you go with Pepe and me to the great rivers, and the greatlakes of the north--"

"The animal has got rid of his enemy, " interrupted Fabian, "he is aboutto spring into the river!"

The water bubbled after the leap of the stag, then a dozen times more asthe wolves followed; then amidst the foam were visible the head of thestag, and those of the wolves who were pursuing him, howling withhunger, while the more timid ones ran along the banks uttering theirlamentable howls. The stag had neared the island, when the wolves onthe bank suddenly ceased their cries and fled precipitately away. 

"What is that?" cried Pepe; "what causes this sudden panic?" but nosooner had he spoken than he cried again, "Hide yourselves, in God'sname! the Indians are in chase also. "

Other and more formidable hunters now appeared in their turn upon thearena. A dozen of the wild horses, which they had seen before, were nowseen galloping wildly over the plain, while some Indians, mountedbareback on their horses (having taken their saddles off for greaterspeed), with their knees almost up to their chins, were pursuing theterrified animals. At first there were but three Indians visible; butone by one about twenty appeared, some armed with lances, and othersbrandishing their lassoes of plaited leather--all uttering those criesby which they express their joy or anger. 

Pepe glanced at the Canadian as though to ask whether he had calculatedthese terrible chances when he wished to make Fabian share theiradventurous career. For the first time, at such a crisis, the intrepidhunter looked deadly pale. An eloquent but sad glance was his reply tothe Spaniard's mute interrogation. 

"A too great affection in the heart of the bravest man, " thought Pepe, "makes him tremble for him who he loves more than life; and adventurerslike us should have no ties. There is Bois-Rose trembling like awoman!"

However, they felt almost certain that even the practiced eyes of theIndians could not discover them in their retreat; and the three men, after their first alarm had passed over, watched coolly the manoeuvresof the Indians. These continued to pursue the flying horses; thenumberless obstacles so thickly strewn over the plain--the ravines, thehillocks, and the sharp-pointed cacti--could not stop them. Withoutslackening the impetuosity of their pace or turning aside from anyobstacle, these horsemen cleared them with wonderful address. Boldrider as he was himself, Fabian looked with enthusiasm on theastonishing agility of these wild hunters, but the precautions whichthey were forced to take, in order to conceal themselves, made the threefriends lose a part of this imposing spectacle. 

The vast savannahs, late so deserted, were suddenly changed into a sceneof tumult and confusion. The stag, returning to the bank, continued tofly, with the wolves still after him. The wild horses galloped beforethe Indians--whose howlings equalled that of the wolves--and describedgreat circles to avoid the lance or the lasso, while numerous echoesrepeated these various sounds. 

The sight of Fabian, who followed with an ardent eye all thesetumultuous evolutions, not appearing to disquiet himself about a dangerwhich he now braved for the first time, deprived Bois-Rose of thatconfidence in himself which had brought him safe and sound out of perilsapparently greater than this. 

"Ah!" muttered he, "these are scenes which the inhabitants of cities cannever see, it is only in the desert one can meet with them. "

But his voice trembled in spite of himself; and he stopped, for he feltthat he would have given a year of his life that Fabian had not beenpresent. At this moment a new subject of apprehension added to hisanguish. 

The scene became more solemn; for a new actor, whose _role_ was to beshort though terrible, now appeared upon it. It was a man, whom by hisdress the three recognised with terror as a white man like themselves. The unlucky man suddenly discovered in one of the evolutions of thechase, had become in his turn the exclusive object of pursuit. Wildhorses, wolves, the stag, had all disappeared in the distant fog. Thereremained only the twenty Indians scattered over a circle, of which thewhite man occupied the centre. For an instant the friends could see himcast around him a glance of despair and anguish. But, excepting on theriver-side, the Indians were everywhere. It was, therefore, in thisdirection that he must fly; and he turned his horse towards the openingopposite to the island. But his single moment of indecision hadsufficed for the Indians to get near him. 

"The unhappy man is lost, and no help for it, " said Bois-Rose; "he istoo late now to cross the river. "

"But, " said Fabian, "if we can save a Christian, shall we let him bemurdered before our eyes?"

Pepe looked at Bois-Rose. 

"I answer for your life before God, " said the Canadian, solemnly, "if weare discovered we are but three against twenty. The life of three men--yours especially, Fabian--is more precious than that of one; we must letthis unhappy man meet his fate. "

"But intrenched as we are?" persisted Fabian. 

"Intrenched! Do you call this frail rampart of osiers and reeds anintrenchment? Do you think these leaves are ball proof? And theseIndians are but twenty now; but let one of our shots be fired at them, and you will soon see one hundred instead of twenty. May God pardon meif I am unfeeling, but it is necessary. "

Fabian said no more; this last reason seemed conclusive, for, like hiscompanions, he was ignorant that the rest of the Indians were at thecamp of Don Estevan. 

Meanwhile the white fled like a man the speed of whose horse is his lastresource. Already they could see the terror depicted on his face, butjust as he was about twenty feet from the river, the lasso of an Indiancaught him, and the unlucky wretch, thrown violently from his saddlefell upon the sand. 

CHAPTER FORTY. 

AN INDIAN DIPLOMAT. 

After the cries of triumph which announced the capture of the unluckywhite man, there was a moment of profound silence. The men on theisland exchanged looks of consternation and pity. "Thank God! they havenot killed him!" said Fabian. 

The prisoner indeed arose, although bruised with his fall, and one ofthe Indians disengaged him from the lasso. Bois-Rose and Pepe shooktheir heads. 

"So much the worse for him, for his sufferings would now be over, " saidPepe; "the silence of the Indians shows that each is considering whatpunishment to inflict. The capture of one white is more precious intheir eyes than that of a whole troop of horses. "

The Indians, still on horseback, surrounded the prisoner, who, castingaround him a despairing glance, saw on every side only bronzed andhardened faces. Then the Indians began to deliberate. 

Meanwhile, one who appeared to be the chief, and who was distinguishedby his black plumes, jumped off his horse, and, throwing the bridle toone of the men, advanced towards the island. Having reached the bank, he seemed to seek for footsteps on the sand. Bois-Rose's heart beatviolently, for this movement appeared to show some suspicion as to theirpresence. 

"Can this wretch, " whispered he to Pepe, "smell flesh like the ogres inthe fairy tales?"

"_Quien sabe_--who knows?" replied the Spaniard, in the phrase which isthe common answer of his native country. 

But the sand trampled over by the wild horses who had come to drink, showed no traces of a human foot, and the Indian walked up the stream, still apparently seeking. 

"The demon has some suspicion, " said Bois-Rose; "and he will discoverthe traces that we left half-a-mile off when we entered the bed of theriver to get at this island. I told you, " added he, "that we shouldhave entered two miles higher up; but neither you nor Fabian wished it, and like a fool, I yielded to you. "

The deliberation as to the fate of the prisoner was now doubtless over;for cries of joy welcomed some proposition made by one of the Indians. But it was necessary to await the return and approbation of the chief, who was the man already known to us as the "Blackbird. " He hadcontinued his researches, and having reached the place where they hadleft the sand to enter the river, no longer doubted that the reportbrought to them had been correct; and having his own private objects, hedetermined to follow it. Once assured of the presence of the threewhites, he returned to his men, listened gravely to the result of theirdeliberations, answered in a few words, and then advanced slowly towardsthe river--after having given an order to five of his men who set off atfull gallop to execute it. 

The aquatic plants were open in the sunshine; the breeze agitated theleaves of the osiers on the banks of the island, which was to allappearance as uninhabited as when the stream flowed only for the birdsof heaven, and the buffaloes and wild horses of the plains. But anIndian could not be deceived by this apparent calm. The "Blackbird"made a speaking-trumpet of his hand, and cried in a language halfIndian, half-Spanish--

"The white warriors of the north may show themselves; the `Blackbird' istheir friend. So, too, are the warriors he commands. "

At these words, borne to them distinctly by the wind, the Canadianpressed the arm of Pepe; both understood the mixed dialect of theIndian. 

"What shall we reply?" said he. 

"Nothing, " answered Pepe. 

The breeze which murmured through the reeds was the only answer theIndian could hear. 

He went on--

"The eagle may hide his track in the air from the eye of an Apache; thesalmon in the stream leaves no trace behind him; but a white man whocrosses the desert is neither a salmon nor an eagle. "

"Nor a gosling, " murmured Pepe; "and a gosling only betrays himself bytrying to sing. "

The Indian listened again, but hearing no sound, continued, withoutshowing any signs of being discouraged, "The white warriors of the northare but three against twenty, and the red warriors engage their word tobe friends and allies to them. "

"Wagh!" said Bois-Rose, "for what perfidy has he need of us?"

"Let him go on, and we shall hear; he has not yet finished, or I am muchmistaken!"

"When the white warriors know the intentions of the Blackbird, they willleave their hiding-place, " continued he, "but they shall hear them. Thewhite men of the north are the enemies of those of the south--theirlanguage, their religion is different. The Apaches hold in their toilsa whole camp of southern warriors. "

"So much the worse for the gold-seekers, " said Bois-Rose. 

"If the warriors of the north will join the Indians with their longrifles, they shall share the horses and the treasures of the men of thesouth; the Indians and the whites will dance together round the corpsesof their enemies, and the ashes of their camp. "

Bois-Rose and Pepe looked at each other in astonishment, and explainedto Fabian the proposal made to them, but the fire of their eyes andtheir disdainful looks, showed that the noble trio had but one opinionon the subject--that of perishing rather than aiding the Indians totriumph even over their mortal enemies. 

"Do you hear the miscreant, " cried Bois-Rose, using in indignation animage fit for the Indians, "he takes jaguars far jackals. Ah! if Fabianwere not here, a bullet would be my answer. "

Meanwhile, the Indian feeling certain of the presence of the hunters inthe island, began to lose patience--for the orders of the chiefs hadbeen peremptory to attack the whites--but he, having his own opinions, wished to prove them right. He knew that the American or Canadian riflenever misses its aim, and three such allies seemed to him not to bedespised. He therefore continued to speak:

"The buffalo of the prairies is not more easy to follow than the whiteman; the track of the buffalo tells the Indian his age, his size, andthe time of his passing. There are behind the reeds of the floatingisland a man as strong as a bison, and taller than the tallest rifle, awarrior of mingled north and south blood, and a young warrior of thepure south, but the alliance of these two with the first, indicates thatthey are enemies of the southern whites--for the weakest ever seek thefriendship of the strongest and espouse their cause. "

"The sagacity of these dogs is admirable, " said Bois-Rose. 

"Because they flatter you, " said Pepe, who seemed somewhat annoyed atwhat the Indian had said. 

"I await for the answer of the whites, " continued the Blackbird. "Ihear only the sound of the river, and the wind which says to me, `thewhites imagine a thousand errors; they believe that the Indian has eyesbehind his back, that the track of the bison is invisible, and thatreeds are ball proof. ' The Blackbird laughs at the words of the wind. "

"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, "if we had entered but two miles higher up theriver!"

"A friend disdained becomes a terrible enemy, " continued the chief. 

"We say something similar among us, " muttered Pepe. 

The Blackbird now signed to the captive to approach. The latteradvanced, and the chief pointed out to him the little island, and said, "Can the rifle of the pale-face send a ball into the space between thosebushes?"

But the prisoner had understood only the little Spanish mixed with theIndian dialect, and he remained mute and trembling. Then the Blackbirdspoke to one of his warriors, who placed in the hands of the prisonerthe rifle that he had taken from him, and by gestures made himunderstand what was wanted of him. The unlucky man tried to take aim, but terror caused him to shake in such a fashion that his rifle wasunsteady in his hands. 

"If the Indian has no better way than that to make us speak, " said Pepe, "I will not say a word until to-morrow!"

The white man fired indeed, but the ball, directed by his tremblinghands, fell into the water some distance from the island. The Blackbirdglanced contemptuously at him, and then looked around him. 

"Yes, " said Pepe; "seek for balls and powder among the lances andlassoes of your warriors. "

But as he finished this consoling reflection, the five men who had goneaway, returned armed for combat, with rifles and quivers full of arrows. They had been to fetch the arms which they had laid down, in order tofollow the wild horses more freely. Five others now went off. 

"This looks bad, " said Bois-Rose. 

"Shall we attack them while they are but fifteen, " said Pepe. 

"No, let us remain silent; he still doubts whether we are here. "

"As you like. "

The Indian chief now took a rifle and advanced again to the bank. 

"The hands of the Blackbird do not tremble like a leaf shaken by thewind, " said he, pointing his rifle steadily towards the island. "Butbefore firing, he will wait while he counts one hundred, for the answerof the whites who are hidden in the island. "

"Get behind me, Fabian, " said Bois-Rose. 

"No, I stay here, " said Fabian, decidedly. "I am younger, and it is myplace to expose myself for you. "

"Child! do you not see that my body exceeds yours six inches on everyside, and your remaining in front is but presenting a double mark. "

And without shaking a single one of the reeds around the island, headvanced and knelt before Fabian. 

"Let him do it, Fabian, " said Pepe. "Never had man a more noblebuckler, than the heart of the giant which beats in fear for you. "

The Indian chief, rifle in hand, listened as he counted, but exceptingthe murmur of the water, a profound silence reigned everywhere. 

He fired at length, and the leaves of the trees flew into the air; butas the three hunters knelt in a row they did not present a large aim, and the ball passed at some little distance from them. 

The Blackbird waited a minute and cried again: "The Indian was wrong, heacknowledges his error, he will seek for the white warriors elsewhere. "

"Who believes that?" said Pepe; "he is more sure than ever. He is aboutto leave us alone for a few minutes, until he has finished with thatpoor devil yonder, which will not belong--since the death of a white isa spectacle which an Indian is always in a hurry to enjoy. "

"But had we better not make some effort in favour of the unlucky man?"said Fabian. 

"Some unexpected circumstances may come to our assistance, " repliedBois-Rose. "Whatever Pepe says, the Indians may still doubt, but if weshow ourselves, all is over. To accept an alliance with these Indians, even against Don Estevan de Arechiza, would be an unworthy cowardice. What can we do?" added he, sadly. 

One fear tormented him; he had seen Fabian in danger when his blood wasboiling with passion, but had he the calm courage which meets deathcoolly? Had he the stoical resignation of which he himself had given somany proofs? The Canadian took a sudden resolution. 

"Listen, Fabian, " said he; "can I speak to you the language of a man?Will the words which your ears will transmit to your heart not freeze itwith terror?"

"Why doubt my courage?" replied Fabian in a tone of gentle reproach. "Whatever you say, I will hear without growing pale; whatever you do, Iwill do also, without trembling. "

"Don Fabian speaks truly, Pepe; look at his eye, " said the Canadian, pressing Fabian in his arms; then he continued solemnly: "Never werethree men in greater peril than we are now; our enemies are seven timesour number; when each of us has killed six of them, there would stillremain a number equal to our own. "

"We have done it before, " said Pepe. 

"And we shall do it again, " cried Fabian. 

"Good, my child, " said Bois-Rose, "but whatever happens, these demonsmust not take us alive. See, Fabian!" added the old man, in a voicethat he tried to keep firm while unsheathing a long knife, "if we wereleft without powder or ammunition at the mercy of these dogs, about tofall into their hands, and this poignard in my hand was our only chance, what would you say?"

"I would say, strike, father, and let us die together!"

"Yes, yes, " cried the Canadian, looking with indescribable tenderness athim who called him father, "it will be one means of never beingseparated. " And he held out to Fabian his hand trembling with emotion, which the latter kissed respectfully. 

"Now, " said Bois-Rose, "whatever happens we shall not be separated. Godwill do the rest, and we shall try to save this unlucky man. "

"To work then!" said Fabian. 

"Not yet, my child; let us see what these red demons are about to do. "

Meanwhile the Indians had ranged themselves in two lines, and the whiteman was placed a little in advance of them. 

"I see what they are going to do, " said Bois-Rose, "they are going totry if the poor wretch's legs are better than his arms. They are aboutto chase him. "

"How so?" said Fabian. 

"They will place their captive a little in advance, then at a givensignal he will run. Then all the Indians will run after him, lance andhatchet in hand. If the white is quick enough to reach the river beforethem, we will call to him to swim to us. Some shots will protect him, and he may reach here safe and sound. But if terror paralyses hislimbs, as it did his hands just now, the foremost Indian will break hishead with a blow from a hatchet. In any case we shall do our best. "

At this moment the five other Indians returned armed from head to foot, and now joined the rest. Fabian looked with profound compassion at theunlucky white man, who with haggard eye, and features distorted byterror, waited in horrible anguish until the signal was given. But theBlackbird pointed to the bare feet of his warriors, and then to theleather buskins which protected the feet of the white man. They thensaw the latter sit down and take them off slowly, as if to gain a fewseconds. 

"The demons!" cried Fabian. 

"Hush!" said Bois-Rose, "do not by discovering yourself destroy the lastchance of life for the poor wretch!"

Fabian shut his eyes so as not to witness the horrible scene about totake place. At length the white man rose to his feet, and the Indiansstood devouring him with their looks, until the Blackbird clapped hishands together, and then the howlings which followed could only becompared to those of a troop of jaguars in pursuit of a deer. Theunlucky captive ran with great swiftness, but his pursuers bounded afterhim like tigers. Thanks to the start which he had had, he clearedsafely a part of the distance which separated him from the river, butthe stones which cut his feet and the sharp thorns of the nopals sooncaused him to slacken his pace, and one of the Indians rushed up andmade a furious thrust at him with his lance. It passed between his armand his body, and the Indian losing his equilibrium, fell on the sand. 

Gayferos, for it was he, appeared to hesitate a moment whether he shouldpick up the lance which the Indian had let fall, but then rapidlycontinued his course. That instant's hesitation was fatal to him. Allat once, amidst the cloud of dust raised by his feet, a hatchet shoneover the head of the unfortunate Mexican, who was seen falling to theearth. 

Bois-Rose was about to fire, but the fear of killing him whom he wishedto defend, stopped his hand. For a single moment the wind cleared awaythe dust, and he fired, but it was too late, the Indian who fell underhis ball was brandishing in his hand the scalp of the unhappy man. Tothis unexpected shot, the savages replied with howls, and then rushedaway from what they believed to be only a corpse. Soon, however, theysaw the man rise, with his head laid bare, who after straggling a fewpaces, fell again, while the blood flowed in torrents from his wounds. 

"Ah!" cried Bois-Rose, "if there remains in him a spark of life--andpeople do not die only from scalping--we shall save him yet; I swear weshall!"

CHAPTER FORTY ONE. 

INDIAN CUNNING. 

As the Canadian uttered the generous oath, wrung from him byindignation, it seemed to him that a supplicating voice reached him. "Is not the poor wretch calling for aid?" And he raised his head frombehind its shelter. 

At sight of the fox-skin cap which covered the head of the giant, and ofthe long and heavy rifle which he raised like a willow wand, the Indiansrecognised one of their formidable northern enemies, and recoiled inastonishment--for the Blackbird alone had been instructed as to whomthey were seeking. Bois-Rose, looking towards the shore now perceivedthe unlucky Gayferos stretching out his arms towards him, and feeblycalling for help. The dying Indian still held the scalp in his clenchedhand. 

At this terrible spectacle the Canadian drew himself up to his fullheight. "Fire on these dogs!" cried he, "and remember--never let themtake you alive. "

So saying, he resolutely entered the water, and any other man would havehad it up to his head, but the Canadian had all his shoulders above thesurface. 

"Do not fire till after me, " said Pepe to Fabian; "my hand is surer thanyours, and my Kentucky rifle carries twice as far as your Liege gun. "And he held his rifle ready to fire at the slightest sign of hostilityfrom the Indians. 

Meanwhile, Bois-Rose still advanced, the water growing graduallyshallower, when an Indian raised his rifle ready to fire on the intrepidhunter; but a bullet from Pepe stopped him, and he fell forward on hisface. 

"Now you, Don Fabian!" said Pepe, throwing himself on the ground toreload, after the American custom in such cases. 

Fabian fired, but his rifle having a shorter range, the shot only drewfrom the Indian at whom he aimed a cry of rage. But Pepe had reloaded, and stood ready to fire again. 

There was a moment's hesitation among the Indians, by which Bois-Roseprofited to draw towards him the body of the unlucky Gayferos. He, clinging to his shoulders, had the presence of mind to leave hispreserver's arms free; who, with his burden, again entered the water, going backwards. Then his rifle was heard, and an Indian's death-cryimmediately followed. This valiant retreat, protected by Pepe andFabian, awed the Indians, and some minutes after, Bois-Rose triumphantlyplaced the fainting Gayferos on the island. 

"There are three of them settled for, " said he, "and now we shall have afew minutes' truce. Well, Fabian, do you see the advantage of firing infile? You did not do badly for a beginner, and I can assure you thatwhen you have a Kentucky rifle like us, you will be a good marksman. "Then to Gayferos, "We came too late to save the skin of your head, mypoor fellow, but console yourself, it is no such dreadful thing. I havemany friends in the same condition, who are none the worse for it. Yourlife is saved--that is the great thing--and we shall endeavour to bindup your wounds. "

Some strips torn from the shirt of Gayferos served to bind around hishead a large mass of willow leaves crushed together and steeped inwater, and concealed the hideous wound. The blood was then washed fromhis face. 

"You see, " said Bois-Rose, still clinging to the idea of keeping Fabiannear him, "you must learn to know the habits of the desert, and of theIndians. The villains, who see, by the loss of three of their men, whatstuff we are made of, have retired to concoct some stratagem. You hearhow silent all is after so much noise?"

The desert, indeed, had recovered its silence, the leaves only trembledin the evening breeze, and the water began to display brilliant coloursin the setting sun. 

"Well, Pepe, they are but seventeen now!" continued Bois-Rose, in a toneof triumph. 

"Oh! we may succeed, if they do not get reinforcements. "

"That is a chance and a terrible one; but our lives are in God's hands, "replied Bois-Rose. "Tell me, friend!" said he to Gayferos, "youprobably belong to the camp of Don Estevan?"

"Do you know him then?" said the wounded man, in a feeble voice. 

"Yes; and by what chance are you so far from the camp?"

The wounded man recounted how, by Don Estevan's orders, he had set offto seek for their lost guide, and that his evil star had brought him incontact with the Indians as they were hunting the wild horses. 

"What is the name of your guide?"

"Cuchillo. "

Fabian and Bois-Rose glanced at each other. 

"Yes, " said the latter, "there is some probability that your suspicionsabout that white demon were correct, and that he is conducting theexpedition to the Golden Valley; but, my child, if we escape theseIndians, we are close to it; and once we are installed there, were theya hundred, we should succeed in defending ourselves. "

This was whispered in Fabian's ear. 

"One word more, " said Bois-Rose to the wounded man, "and then we shallleave you to repose. How many men has Don Estevan with him?"

"Sixty. "

Bois-Rose now again bathed the head of the wounded Gayferos with coldwater: and the unhappy man, refreshed for the moment, and weakened byloss of blood, fell into a lethargic sleep. 

"Now, " continued Bois-Rose, "let us endeavour to build up a rampartwhich shall be a little more ball and arrow-proof than this fringe ofmoving leaves and reeds. Did you count how many rifles the Indianshad?"

"Seven, I believe, " said Pepe. 

"Then ten of them are less to be feared. They cannot attack us eitheron the right or the left--but perhaps they have made a detour to crossthe river, and are about to place us between two fires. "

The side of the islet opposite the shore on which the Indians had shownthemselves was sufficiently defended by enormous roots, bristling likechevaux-de-frise; but the side where the attack was probably about torecommence was defended only by a thick row of reeds and osier-shoots. 

Thanks to his great strength, Bois-Rose, aided by Pepe, succeeded indragging from the end of the islet which faced the course of the stream, some large dry branches and fallen trunks of trees. A few minutessufficed for the two skilful hunters to protect the feeble side with arough but solid entrenchment, which would form a very good defence tothe little garrison of the island. 

"Do you see, Fabian, " said Bois-Rose, "you'll be as safe behind thesetrunks of trees as in a stone fortress. You'll be exposed only to theballs that may be fired from the tops of the trees, but I shall takecare that none of these redskins climb so high. "

And quite happy at having raised a barrier between Fabian and death, heassigned him his post in the place most sheltered from the enemy. 

"Did you remark, " said he to Pepe, "how at every effort that we made tobreak a branch or disengage a block of wood, the island trembled to itsfoundation?"

"Yes, " said Pepe, "one might think that it was about to be torn from itsbase and follow the course of the stream. "

The Canadian then cautioned his two companions to be careful of theirammunition, gave Fabian some instructions as to taking aim, pressed himto his heart, squeezed the hand of his old comrade, and then the threestationed themselves at their several posts. The surface of the river, the tops of the aspens growing on the banks, the banks themselves andthe reeds, were all objects of examination for the hunters, as the nightwas fast coming on. 

"This is the hour when the demons of darkness lay their snares, " saidBois-Rose, "when these human jaguars seek for their prey. It was ofthem that the Scriptures spoke. "

No one replied to this speech, which was uttered rather as a soliloquy. 

Meanwhile, the darkness was creeping on little by little, and the busheswhich grew on the bank began to assume the fantastic forms given toobjects by the uncertain twilight. 

The green of the trees began to look black; but habit had given toBois-Rose and to Pepe eyes as piercing as those of the Indiansthemselves, and nothing, with the vigilance they were exerting, couldhave deceived them. 

"Pepe, " whispered Bois-Rose, pointing to a tuft of osiers, "does it notseem to you that that bush has changed its form and grown larger?"

"Yes; it has changed its form!"

"See, Fabian! you have the piercing sight that I had at your age; doesit not appear to you that at the left-hand side of that tuft of osiersthe leaves no longer look natural?"

The young man pushed the reeds on one side, and gazed for a whileattentively. 

"I could swear it, " said he, "but--" He stopped, and looked in anotherdirection. 

"Well! do you see anything?"

"I see, between that willow and the aspen, about ten feet from the tuftof osiers, a bush which certainly was not there just now. "

"Ah! see what it is to live far from towns;--the least points of thelandscape fix themselves in the memory, and become precious indications. You are born to live the life of a hunter, Fabian!"

Pepe levelled his rifle at the bush indicated by Fabian. 

"Pepe understands it at once, " said Bois-Rose; "he knows, like me, thatthe Indians have employed their time in cutting down branches to form atemporary shelter; but I think two of us at least may teach them a fewstratagems that they do not yet know. Leave that bush to Fabian, itwill be an easy mark for him; fire at the branches whose leaves arebeginning to wither--there is an Indian behind them. Fire in thecentre, Fabian!"

The two rifles were heard simultaneously, and the false bush fell, displaying a red body behind the leaves, while the branches which hadbeen added were convulsively agitated. All three then threw themselveson the ground, and a discharge of balls immediately flew over theirheads, covering them with leaves and broken branches, while the war-cryof the Indians sounded in their ears. 

"If I do not deceive myself, they are now but fifteen, " said Bois-Rose, as he quitted his horizontal posture, and knelt on the ground. 

"Be still!" added he. "I see the leaves of an aspen trembling more thanthe wind alone could cause them to do. It is doubtless one of thosefellows who has climbed up into the tree. "

As he spoke, a bullet struck one of the trunks of which the islet wascomposed, and proved that he had guessed rightly. 

"Wagh!" said the Canadian, "I must resort to a trick that will force himto show himself. "

So saying, he took off his cap and coat, and placed them between thebranches, where they could be seen. "Now, " said he, "if I were fightinga white soldier, I would place myself by the side of my coat, for hewould fire at the coat; with an Indian I shall stand behind it, for hewill not be deceived in the same manner, and will aim to one side of it. Lie down, Fabian and Pepe, and in a minute you shall hear a bulletwhistle either to the right or the left of the mark I have set up. "

As Bois-Rose said this, he knelt down behind his coat, ready to fire atthe aspen. 

He was not wrong in his conjectures; in a moment, the balls of theIndians cut the leaves on each side of the coat, but without touchingeither of the three companions, who had placed themselves in a line. 

"Ah, " cried the Canadian, "there are whites who can fight the Indianswith their own weapons; we shall presently have an enemy the less. "

And saying this he fired into the aspen, out of which the body of anIndian was seen to fall, rolling from branch to branch like a fruitknocked from its stem. 

At this feat of the Canadian, the savage howlings resounded with so muchfury, that it required nerves of iron not to shudder at them. Gayferoshimself, whom the firing had not roused, shook off his lethargy andmurmured, in a trembling voice, "Virgen de los Dolores! Would not onesay it was a band of tigers howling in the darkness?--Holy Virgin! havepity on me!"

"Thank her rather, " interrupted the Canadian; "the knaves might deceivea novice like you, but not an old hunter like me. You have heard thejackals of an evening in the forest howl and answer each other as thoughthere were hundreds of them, when there were but three or four. TheIndians imitate the jackals, and I will answer for it there are not morethat a dozen now behind those trees. Ah! if I could but get them tocross the water, not one of them should return to carry the news oftheir disaster. "

Then, as if a sudden thought had flashed across his mind, he directedhis companions to lie down on their backs--in which position they wereprotected by the trunks of the trees. "We are in safety as long as welie thus, " said he, "only keep your eye on the tops of the trees; it isfrom these only they can reach us. Fire only if you see them climb up, but otherwise remain motionless. The knaves will not willingly departwithout our scalps, and must make up their minds at last to attack us. "

This resolution of the hunter seemed to have been inspired by heaven, for scarcely had they laid down before a shower of balls and arrows toreto pieces the border of reeds, and broke the branches behind which theyhad been kneeling a minute before. Bois-Rose pulled down his coat andhat, as though he himself had fallen, and then the most profound silencereigned in the island, after this apparently murderous fire. Cries oftriumph followed this silence, and then a second discharge of bulletsand arrows. 

"Is not that an Indian mounting the willow?" whispered Pepe. 

"Yes, but let us risk his fire without stirring; lie all of us as if wewere dead. Then he will go and tell his companions that he has countedthe corpses of the palefaces. "

In spite of the danger incurred by this stratagem, the proposition ofBois-Rose was accepted, and each remained motionless, watching, notwithout anxiety, the manoeuvres of the Indian. With extreme precautionthe red warrior climbed from branch to branch, until he had reached apoint from which he could overlook the whole islet. 

There remained just sufficient daylight to observe his movements whenthe foliage itself did not hide them. When he had reached the desiredheight, the Indian, resting on a thick branch, advanced his head withprecaution. The sight of the bodies extended on the ground appeared notto surprise him, and he now openly pointed his rifle towards them. Thishe did several times, apparently taking aim, but not one of the huntersstirred. Then the Indian uttered a cry of triumph. "The shark takesthe bait, " muttered Bois-Rose. 

"I shall recognise this son of a dog, " rejoined Pepe, "and if I do notrepay him for the anxiety he has caused me, it is because the bullet heis about to send will prevent me. "

"It is the Blackbird, " said Bois-Rose, "he is both brave and dexterous--lie close!"

The Indian once more took aim, and then fired; a branch knocked from atree just above Pepe, fell upon him and hurt his forehead. He stirredno more than the dead wood against which he leaned, but said, "Rascal ofa redskin, I'll pay you for this before long. "

Some drops of blood fell upon the face of the Canadian. 

"Is any one wounded?" said he, with a shudder. 

"A scratch, nothing more, " said Pepe, "God be praised!"

Just then the Indian uttered a cry of joy, as he descended from the treeon which he had mounted, and the three friends again breathed freely. 

And yet some doubt seemed to remain in the minds of the Indians, for along and solemn silence followed the manoeuvre of their chief. 

The sun had now set, the short twilight had passed away, night had comeon, and the moon shone on the river, yet still the Indians did not stir. 

"Our scalps tempt them, but they still hesitate to come and take them, "said Pepe, who was becoming very tired of doing nothing. 

"Patience!" whispered Bois-Rose, "the Indians are like the vultures, whodare not attack a body until it begins to decay. We may look out forthem by-and-bye. Let us resume our position behind the reeds. "

The hunters again quickly knelt down and continued to watch theirenemies. 

Before long an Indian showed himself very cautiously, another thenjoined him, and both approached with increasing confidence, followed byothers, until Bois-Rose counted ten in the moonlight. 

"They will cross the river in file, I expect, " said he. "Fabian, youfire at the first, Pepe will aim at the centre, and I at the last butone. In that way they cannot all attack together. It will be ahand-to-hand struggle, but you, Fabian, while Pepe and I wait for themknife in hand, shall load our rifles and pass them to us. By the memoryof your mother, I forbid you to fight with these wretches. "

As the Canadian uttered these words, a tall Indian entered the river, followed by nine others. All advanced with the utmost caution; theymight have been taken for the shades of warriors returned from the landof spirits. 

CHAPTER FORTY TWO. 

THE BLACKBIRD. 

Death seemed to the eyes of the Indians to reign over the island--forthe hunters held even their breath--and yet they advanced with theutmost care. 

The foremost man, who was the "Blackbird" himself, had reached a placewhere the water began to be deep, as the last man was just leaving thebank. But just as Fabian was about to take aim against the chief, tothe great regret of Pepe, the "Blackbird, " either fearful of danger, orbecause a ray of moonlight gleaming on the rifles told him his enemystill lived dived suddenly under the water. 

"Fire!" cried Bois-Rose, and immediately the last Indian of the filefell to rise no more, and two others appeared struggling in the water, and were quickly borne off by the stream. Pepe and Bois-Rose then threwtheir rifles behind them as agreed upon, for Fabian to reload, whilethey themselves stood upon the bank, knives in hand. 

"The Apaches are still seven, " shouted Bois-Rose, in a voice of thunder, anxious to finish the struggle, and feeling all his hatred of theIndians awakened within him, "will they dare to come and take the scalpsof the whites?"

But the disappearance of their chief and the death of their comrades haddisconcerted the Indians; they did not fly, but they remained undecidedand motionless, as black rocks bathed by the shining waters of theriver. 

"Can the red warriors only scalp dead bodies?" added Pepe with acontemptuous laugh. "Are the Apaches like vultures who only attack thedead? Advance then, dogs, vultures, women without courage!" shouted he, at the sight of their enemies, who were now rapidly regaining the bank. Suddenly, however, he noticed a body floating on its back, whose brighteyes showed that it was not a corpse, as the extended arms andmotionless body seemed to indicate. 

"Don Fabian, my rifle! there is the `Blackbird' pretending to be deadand floating down the stream. "

Pepe took the rifle from Fabian, and aimed at the floating body, but nota muscle stirred. The hunter lowered his rifle. "I was wrong, " saidhe, aloud, "the white men do not, like the Indians, waste their powderon dead bodies. "

The body still floated, with outspread legs and extended arms. Pepeagain raised his rifle and again lowered it. Then, when he thought thathe had paid off anguish for anguish to the Indian chief, he fired, andthe body floated no longer. 

"Have you killed him?" asked Bois-Rose. 

"No, I only wished to break his shoulder bone, that he may always havecause to remember the shudder he gave, and the treason he proposed tome. If he were dead, he would still float. "

"You might have done better to have killed him. But what is to be donenow? I hoped to finish with these demons, and now our work is still tobe done. We cannot cross the river to attack them. "

"It is the best thing we can do. "

"With Fabian, I cannot decide to do it, or I should be now on the bankopposite, where you know as well as I do they still are breathing theirinfernal vengeance. "

The Spaniard shrugged his shoulders with stoical resignation. 

"Doubtless, " said he, "but we must decide either to fly or to stay. "

"Carramba!" continued he, "if we two were alone we would gain theopposite bank in a minute; the seven who are left would catch us nodoubt, but we should come out of it, as we have out of more difficultsituations. "

"It would be better than to stay here like foxes in their hole. "

"I agree: but Fabian! and the unlucky scalped man, whom we cannotabandon thus to the mercy of the wretches who have already treated himso cruelly. Let us wait at least until the moon has set, and darknesscomes on. "

And the old man hung his head with an air of discouragement--which madea painful impression on the Spaniard--raising it only to glanceanxiously at the sky; where the moon held on her ordinary course overthe starry blue. 

"So be it, " said Pepe; "but, stay! we killed first five Indians, thenthree, that makes eight; there should have been twelve left; why did weonly count ten in the water? Depend upon it, the Blackbird has sent thetwo others to seek for reinforcements. "

"It is possible: to remain here or to fly are both terrible. "

For some time the hunters thus continued to deliberate; meanwhile themoonbeams began to fall more obliquely, and already a part of the topsof the trees were in shadow. More than an hour had elapsed since theattempt of the Indians, and Pepe, less absorbed than Bois-Rose, waswatching anxiously. 

"That cursed moon will never go down, " said he, "and it seems to me thatI hear something like the noise of feet in the water; the buffaloes donot come down to drink at this time of night. "

So saying, he rose and leaning right and left, looked up and down thestream, but on each side extended an impenetrable veil of fog. Thecoolness of the American nights which succeeds the burning heat of theday, condenses thus in thick clouds the exhalations of the ground, andof the waters heated by the sun. 

"I can see nothing but fog, " said he. 

Little by little the vague sounds died away, and the air recovered itshabitual cairn and silence. The moon was fast going down, and allnature seemed sleeping, when the occupants of the island started up interror. 

From both sides of the river rose shouts so piercing that the banksechoed them long after the mouths that uttered them were closed. Henceforth flight was impossible; the Indians had encompassed theisland. 

"The moon may go down now, " cried Pepe with rage. "Ah! with reason Ifeared the two absent men, and the noises that I heard; it was theIndians who were gaining the opposite bank. Who knows how many enemieswe have around us now?"

"What matter, " replied Bois-Rose gloomily, "whether there are onehundred vultures to tear our bodies, or a hundred Indians to howl roundus when we are dead?"

"It is true that the number matters little in such circumstances, but itwill be a day of triumph for them. "

"Are you going to sing your death-song like them, who, when tied to thestake, recall the number of scalps they have taken?"

"And why not? it is a very good custom, it helps one to die like a hero, and to remember that you have lived like a man. "

"Let us rather try to die like Christians, " replied Bois-Rose. 

Then drawing Fabian towards him, he said:

"I scarcely know, my beloved child, what I had dreamed of for you; I amhalf savage and half civilised, and my dreams partook of both. Sometimes I wished to restore you to the honours of this world--to yourhonours, your titles--and to add to them all the treasures of the GoldenValley. Then I dreamed only of the splendour of the desert, and itsmajestic harmonies, which lull a man to his rest, and entrance him athis waking. But I can truly say that the dominant idea in my mind wasthat of never quitting you. Must that be accomplished in death? Soyoung, so brave, so handsome, must you meet the same fate as a man whowould soon be useless in the world?"

"Who would love me when you were gone?" replied Fabian, in a voice whichtheir terrible situation deprived neither of its sweetness nor firmness. "Before I met you, the grave had closed upon all I loved, and the soleliving being who could replace them was--you. What have I to regret inthis world?"

"The future, my child; the future into which youth longs to plunge, likethe thirsty stag into the lake. "

Distant firing now interrupted the melancholy reflections of the oldhunter; the Indians were attacking the camp of Don Estevan. The readerknows the result. 

Suddenly they heard a voice from the bank, saying, "Let the white menopen their ears!"

"It is the `Blackbird' again, " cried Pepe. It was indeed he, supportedby two Indians. 

"Why should they open their ears?" answered Pepe. 

"The whites laugh at the menaces of the `Blackbird, ' and despise hispromises. "

"Good!" said the Indian; "the whites are brave, and they will need alltheir bravery. The white men of the south are being attacked now; whyare the men of the north not against them?"

"Because you are a bird of doleful plumage! because lions do not huntwith jackals, for jackals can only howl while the lion devours. Applythe compliment; it is a fine flower of Indian rhetoric, " cried Pepe, exasperated. 

"Good! the whites are like the conquered Indians, insulting hisconqueror. But the eagle laughs at the words of the mocking-bird, andit is not to him that the eagle deigns to address himself. "

"To whom then?" cried Pepe. 

"To the giant, his brother, the eagle of the snowy mountains, whodisdains to imitate the language of other birds. "

"What do you want of him?" said Bois-Rose. 

"The Indian would hear the northern warrior ask for life, " replied theBlackbird. 

"I have a different demand to make, " said the Canadian. 

"I listen, " replied the Indian. 

"If you will swear on the honour of a warrior, and on your father'sbones, that you will spare my companions' lives, I shall cross the riveralone without arms, and bring you my scalp on my head. That will tempthim, " added Bois-Rose. 

"Are you mad, Bois-Rose?" cried Pepe. 

Fabian flew towards the Canadian: "At the first step you make towardsthe Indian, I shall kill you, " cried he. 

The old hunter felt his heart melt at the sound of the two voices thathe loved so much. A short silence followed, then came the answer fromthe bank. 

"The Blackbird wishes the white man to ask for life, and he asks fordeath. My wish is this, let the white man of the north quit hiscompanions, and I swear on my father's bones, that his life shall besaved, but his alone; the other three must die. "

Bois-Rose disdained to reply to this offer, and the Indian chief waitedvainly for a refusal or an acceptance. Then he continued: "Until thehour of their death, the whites hear the voice of the Indian chief forthe last time. My warriors surround the island and the river. Indianblood has been spilled and must be revenged; white blood must flow. Butthe Indian does not wish for this blood warmed by the ardour of thecombat, he wishes for it frozen by terror, impoverished by hunger. Hewill take the whites living; then, when he holds them in his clutches, when they are like hungry dogs howling after a bone, he will see whatmen are like after fear and privation; he will make of their skin asaddle for his war-horse, and each of their scalps shall be suspended tohis saddle, as a trophy of vengeance. My warriors shall surround theisland for fifteen days and nights if necessary, in order to makecapture of the white men. "

After these terrible menaces the Indian disappeared behind the trees. But Pepe not willing that he should believe he had intimidated them, cried as coldly as anger would permit, "Dog, who can do nothing butbark, the whites despise your vain bravados. Jackal, unclean polecat, Idespise you--I--I"--but rage prevented him from saying more, and hefinished off by a gesture of contempt; then with a loud laugh he satdown, satisfied at having had the last word. As for Bois-Rose he saw init all only the refusal of his heroic sacrifice. 

"Ah!" sighed the generous old man, "I could have arranged it all; now itis too late. "

The moon had gone down; the sound of distant firing had ceased, and thedarkness made the three friends feel still more forcibly how easy itwould have been to gain the opposite bank, carrying in their arms thewounded man. He, insensible to all that was passing, still sleptheavily. 

"Thus, " said Pepe, first breaking silence, "we have fifteen days tolive; it is true we have not much provision, but carramba! we shall fishfor food and for amusement. "

"Let us think, " said Bois-Rose, "of employing usefully the hours beforedaylight. "

"In what?"

"Parbleu! in escaping!"

"But how?"

"That is the question. You can swim, Fabian?"

"How else should. I have escaped from the Salto de Agua?"

"True! I believe that fear confuses my brain. Well! it would not beimpossible, perhaps, to dig a hole in the middle of this island, and toslip through this opening into the water. The night is so dark, that ifthe Indians do not see us throw ourselves into the water, we might gaina place some way off with safety. Stay, I shall try an experiment. " Sosaying, he detached, with some trouble, one of the trunks from thelittle island; and its knotty end looked not unlike a human head. Thishe placed carefully on the water, and soon it floated gently down thestream. The three friends followed its course anxiously; then, when ithad disappeared, Bois-Rose said:

"You see, a prudent swimmer might pass in the same manner; not an Indianhas noticed it. "

"That is true; but who knows that their eyes cannot distinguish a manfrom a piece of wood?" said Pepe. "Besides, we have with with us a manwho cannot swim. "

"Whom?"

The Spaniard pointed to the wounded man; who groaned in his sleep, asthough his guardian angel warned him that there was a question ofabandoning him to his enemies. 

"What matter?" said Bois-Rose; "is his life worth that of the last ofthe Medianas?"

"No, " replied the Spaniard; "and I, who half wanted a short time ago toabandon the poor wretch, think now I would be cowardly. "

"Perhaps, " added Fabian, "he has children, who would weep for theirfather. "

"It would be a bad action, and would bring us ill luck, " added Pepe. 

All the superstitious tenderness of the Canadian awoke at these words, and he said--

"Well, then, Fabian, you are a good swimmer, follow this plan: Pepe andI will stay here and guard this man, and if we die here, it will be inthe discharge of our duty, and with the joy of knowing you to be safe. "

But Fabian shook his head. 

"I care not for life without you; I shall stay, " said he. 

"What can be done then?"

"Let us think, " said Pepe. 

But it was unluckily one of those cases in which all human resources arevain, for it was one of those desperate situations from which a higherpower alone could extricate them. In vain the fog thickened and thenight grew darker; the resolution not to abandon the wounded man opposedan insurmountable obstacle to their escape, and before long the fireslighted by the Indians along each bank, threw a red light over thestream, and rendered this plan impracticable. Except for these fires, the most complete calm reigned, for no enemy was visible, no human voicetroubled the silence of the night. However, the fog grew more and moredense, the stream disappeared from view, and even the fires looked onlylike pale and indistinct lights under the shadowy outline of the trees. 

CHAPTER FORTY THREE. 

A FEAT OF HERCULEAN STRENGTH. 

Let us now glance at the spot occupied by the Blackbird. The fireslighted on the banks threw at first so strong a light that nothing couldescape the eyes of the Indians, and a sentinel placed near each fire wascharged to observe carefully all that passed on the island. Seated andleaning against the trunk of a tree, his broken shoulder bound up withstrips of leather, the Blackbird only showed on his face an expressionof satisfied ferocity; as for the suffering he was undergoing, he wouldhave thought it unworthy of him to betray the least indication of it. His ardent eye was fixed continually on the spot where were the threemen, whom he pictured to himself as full of anguish. 

But as the fog grew thicker, first the opposite bank and then the islanditself, became totally invisible. The Indian chief felt that it wasnecessary to redouble his surveillance. He ordered one man to cross theriver, and another to walk along the bank, and exhorted every one towatchfulness. 

"Go, " said he, "and tell those of my warriors who are ordered to watchthese Christians--whose skins and scalps shall serve as ornaments to ourhorses--that they must each have four ears, to replace the eyes that thefog has rendered useless. Tell them that their vigilance will merittheir chief's gratitude; but that if they allow sleep to deaden theirsenses, the hatchet of the Blackbird will send them to sleep in the landof spirits. "

The two messengers set off, and soon returned to tell the chief that hemight rest satisfied that attention would be paid to his orders. Indeed, stimulated at once by their own hatred of the whites, and by thehope of a recompense--fearing if sleep surprised them, not so much thethreatened punishment as the idea of awaking in the hunting-grounds ofthe land of spirits, bearing on their foreheads the mark of shame whichaccompanies the sentinel who gives way to sleep--the sentinels hadredoubled their vigilance. There are few sounds that can escape themarvellous ears of an Indian, but on this occasion the fog made itdifficult to hear as well as to see, and the strictest attention wasnecessary. With closed eyes and open ears, and standing up to chaseaway the heaviness that the silence of nature caused them to feel, theIndian warriors stood motionless near their fires, throwing on on fromtime to time some fagots to keep them ablaze. 

Some time passed thus, during which the only sound heard was that of adistant fall in the river. 

The Blackbird remained on the left bank, and the night air, as itinflamed his wounds, only excited his hatred the more. His face coveredwith hideous paint, and contracted by the pain--of which he disdained tomake complaint--and his brilliant eyes, made him resemble one of thesanguinary idols of barbarous times. Little by little, however, inspite of himself, his eyes were weighed down by sleep, and an invincibledrowsiness took possession of his spirit. Before long his sleep becameso profound, that he did not hear the dry branches crackle under amoccasin, as an Indian of his tribe advanced towards him. 

Straight and motionless as a bamboo stem, an Indian runner covered withblood and panting for breath, waited for some time until the chief, before whom he stood, should open his eyes and interrogate him. As thelatter showed no signs of awaking, the runner resolved to announce hispresence, and in a hollow, guttural voice, said--

"When the Blackbird shall open his eyes, he will hear from my mouthwords which will chase sleep far from him. "

The chief opened his eyes at the voice, and shook off his drowsinesswith a violent effort. Ashamed at having been surprised asleep, hemuttered:

"The Blackbird has lost much blood; he has lost so much that the nextsun will not dry it on the ground, and his body is more feeble than hiswill. "

"Man is made thus, " rejoined the messenger, sententiously. 

The Blackbird continued without noticing the reflection:

"It is some very important message doubtless, since the Spotted Cat haschosen the fleetest of his runners to carry it?"

"The Spotted Cat will send no more messengers, " replied the Indian. "The lance of a white man has pierced his breast, and the chief nowhunts with his fathers in the land of spirits. "

"What matter! he died a conqueror? he saw, before he died, the whitedogs dispersed over the plain?"

"He died conquered; and the Apaches had to fly after losing their chiefand fifty of their renowned warriors. "

In spite of his wound, and of the empire that an Indian should exerciseover himself, the Blackbird started up at these words. However, herestrained himself, and replied gravely, though with trembling lips--

"Who, then, sends you to me, messenger of ill?"

"The warriors, who want a chief to repair their defeat. The Blackbirdwas but the chief of a tribe, he is now the chief of a whole people. "

Satisfied pride shone in the eye of the Indian, at his augmentedauthority. 

"If the rifles of the north had been joined to ours, the whites of thesouth would have been conquered. " But as he recalled to mind theinsulting manner in which the two hunters had rejected his proposal, hiseyes darted forth flames of hatred, and pointing to his wound, he said, "What can a wounded chief do? His limbs refuse to carry him, and he canscarcely sit on his horse. "

"We can tie him on; a chief is at once a head and an arm--if the arm bepowerless the head will act, and the sight of their chief's blood willanimate our warriors. The council fire was lighted anew after thedefeat, and the warriors wait for the Blackbird to make his voice heard;his battle-horse is ready--let us go!"

"No, " replied the Blackbird, "my warriors encompass, on each bank, thewhite hunters whom I wished to have for allies; now they are enemies;the ball of one of them has rendered useless for six moons, the arm thatwas so strong in combat; and were I offered the command of ten nations, I would refuse it, to await here the hour when the blood that I thirstfor shall flow before my eyes. "

The chief then recounted briefly the captivity of Gayferos, hisdeliverance by the Canadian, the rejection of his proposals and the vowof vengeance he had made. 

The messenger listened gravely; he felt all the importance of making anew attack on the gold-seekers, at the moment when, delighted at theirvictory, they believed themselves safe, and he proposed to the Blackbirdto leave some one behind in his place to watch the island; but theBlackbird was immovable. 

"Well!" said the runner, "before long the sun will begin to rise; Ishall wait until daylight to report to the Apaches that the Blackbirdprefers his personal vengeance to the honour of the entire nation. Bydeferring my departure, I shall have retarded the moment when ourwarriors will have to regret the loss of the bravest among them. "

"So be it, " said the chief, in a grave tone, although much pleased bythis adroit flattery, "but a messenger has need of repose after a battlefollowed by a long journey. Meanwhile, I would listen to the account ofthe combat in which the Spotted Cat lost his life. "

The messenger sat down near the fire, with crossed legs, and with oneelbow on his knee and his head leaning on his hand, after a few minutes'rest, gave a circumstantial account of the attack on the white camp--omitting no fact which might awaken the hatred of the Blackbird againstthe Mexican invaders. 

This over, he laid down and slept, or seemed to sleep. But thetumultuous and contrary passions which struggled in the heart of theBlackbird--ambition on the one hand, and thirst for vengeance on theother--kept him awake without effort. In about an hour the runner halfrose, and pushing back the cloak of skin which he had drawn over hishead he perceived the Blackbird still sitting in the same attitude. 

"The silence of the night has spoken to me, " said he, "and I thoughtthat a renowned chief like the Blackbird might, before the rising sun, have his enemies in his power and hear their death-song. "

"My warriors cannot walk on the water as on the warpath, " replied he;"the men of the north do not resemble those of the south, whose riflesare like reeds in their hands. "

"The blood that the Blackbird has lost deceives his intellect andobscures his vision; if he shall permit it, I shall act for him, andto-morrow his vengeance will be complete. "

"Do as you like; from whatever side vengeance comes, it will beagreeable to me. "

"Enough. I shall soon bring here the three hunters, and him whose scalpthey could not save. "

So saying the messenger rose and was soon hidden by the fog from theeyes of the Blackbird. 

On the island more generous emotions were felt. From the eyes of itsoccupants sleep had also fled--for if there be a moment in life, whenthe hearts of the bravest may fail them, it is when danger is terribleand inevitable, and when not even the last consolation of selling lifedearly is possible to them. Watched by enemies whom they could not see, the hunters could not satisfy their rage by making their foes fallbeneath their bullets as they had done the evening before. Besides, both Bois-Rose and Pepe knew too well the implacable obstinacy of theIndians to suppose that the Blackbird would permit his warriors to replyto their attacks; a soldier's death would have seemed too easy to him. 

Oppressed by these sad thoughts, the three hunters spoke no more, butresigned themselves to their fate, rather than abandon the unluckystranger by attempting to escape. 

Fabian was as determined to die as the others. The habitual sadness ofhis spirit robbed death of its terrors, but still the ardour of his mindwould have caused him to prefer a quicker death, weapon in hand, to theslow and ignominious one reserved for them. He was the first to breaksilence. The profound tranquillity that reigned on the banks was to theexperienced eyes of the Canadian and Pepe only a certain indication ofthe invincible resolution of their enemies; but to Fabian it appearedreassuring--a blessing by which they ought to profit. 

"All sleeps now around us, " said he, "not only the Indians on the banks, but all that has life in the woods and in the desert--the river itselfseems to be running slower! See! the reflections of the fires die away!would it not be the time to attempt a descent on the bank?"

"The Indians sleep!" interrupted Pepe, bitterly, "yes, like the waterwhich seems stagnant, but none the less pursues its course. You couldnot take three steps in the river before the Indians would rush afteryou as you have often seen wolves rush after a stag. Have _you_ nothingbetter to propose, Bois-Rose?"

"No, " replied he as his hand sought that of Fabian, while with the otherhe pointed to the sick man, tossing restlessly on his couch of pain. 

"But, in default of all other chance, " said Fabian, "we should at leasthave that of dying with honour, side by side as we would wish. If weare victorious, we can then return to the aid of this unfortunate man. If we fall, God himself, when we appear before him, cannot reproach uswith the sacrifice of his life, since we risked our own for the commongood. "

"No, " replied Bois-Rose; "but let us still hope in that God, whore-united us by a miracle; what does not happen to-day, may to-morrow;we have time before us before our provisions fail. To attempt to takethe bank now, would be to march to certain death. To die would benothing, and we always hold that last resource in our own hands; but wemight perhaps be made prisoners, and then I shudder to think of whatwould be our fate. Oh! my beloved Fabian, these Indians in theirdetermination to take us alive give me at least the happiness of beingyet a few days beside you. "

Silence again resumed its reign; but as Bois-Rose thought of theterrible denouement he clutched convulsively at some of the trunks ofthe dead trees, and under his powerful grasp the islet trembled asthough about to be torn from its base. 

"Ah! the wretches! the demons!" cried Pepe, with a sudden explosion ofrage. "Look yonder!"

A red light was piercing gradually through the veil of vapour which hungover the river, and seemed to advance and grow larger; but, strange tosay, the fire floated on the water, and, intense as was the fog, themass of flames dissipated it as the sun disperses the clouds. The threehunters had barely time to be astonished at this apparition, before theyguessed its cause. A long course of life in the desert and its dangershad imparted to the Canadian a firmness which Pepe had not attained;therefore, instead of giving way to surprise, he remained perfectlycalm. He knew that this was the only way to surmount any difficulty. 

"Yes, " said he, "I understand what it is as well as if the Indians hadtold me. You spoke once of foxes smoked out of their holes; now theywant to burn us in ours. "

The globe of fire which floated on the river advanced with alarmingrapidity, and confirmed the words of Bois-Rose. Already amidst thewater, reddened by the flame, the twigs of the willows were becomingdistinct. 

"It is a fire-ship, " cried Pepe, "with which they want to set fire toour island. "

"So much the better, " cried Fabian; "better to fight against the firethan wait quietly for death. "

"Yes, " said Bois-Rose; "but fire is a terrible adversary and it fightsfor these demons. "

The besieged could oppose nothing to the advancing flames; and theywould soon devour the little island, leaving to its inmates no otherchance of escape but by throwing themselves into the water--where theIndians could either kill them by rifle-shots, or take them alive, asthey pleased. 

Such had been the idea of the Indian messenger. By his order, theApaches had cut down a tree with its leaves on, and a thick mass of wetgrass interlaced in its branches formed a sort of foundation, on whichthey placed the branches of a pine tree; and after setting fire to thisconstruction, they had sent it floating down the stream. As itapproached, the crackling of the wood could be heard; and out of theblack smoke which mixed with the fog arose a bright, clear flame. 

Not far from the bank they could distinguish the form of an Indian. Pepe could not resist a sudden temptation. "Yon demon, " cried he, "shall at least not live to exult over our death. "

So saying, he fired and the plume of the Indian was seen to go down. 

"Sad and tardy vengeance, " remarked Bois-Rose; and as if, indeed, theApaches disdained the efforts of a vanquished foe, the shore preservedits gloomy solitude, and not a single howl accompanied the last groansof the warrior. 

"Never mind, " cried Pepe, stamping his foot in his impotent fury; "Ishall die more calmly, the greater number of those demons I have sentbefore me. " And he looked round for some other victim. 

Meanwhile Bois-Rose was calmly reconnoitring the burning mass, which, ifit touched the island, would set fire to the dried trees which composedit. 

"Well, " cried Pepe, whose rage blinded his judgment, "it is useless tolook at the fire; have you any method of making it deviate from itscourse?"

"Perhaps, " replied the Canadian. Pepe began to whistle with an affectedindifference. 

"I see something that proves to me that the reasonings of the Indiansare not always infallible; and if it were not that we shall receive ashower of balls, to force us to stay hidden while the islet takes fire, I should care as little for that burning raft as for a fire-fly in theair. "

In constructing the floating fire, the Indians had calculated itsthickness, so that the wet grass might be dried by the fire and becomekindled about the time when it should touch the island. But the grasshad been soaked in the water, and this had retarded its combustion;besides the large branches had not had time to inflame; it was only thesmaller boughs and the leaves that were burning. This had not escapedthe quick eye of the Canadian, who, advancing with a long stick in hishand, resolved to push it underwater; but just as he was about to riskthis attempt, what he had predicted took place. A shower of balls andarrows flew towards them; though these shots seemed rather intended toterrify than to kill them. 

"They are determined, " said Bois-Rose, "only to take us alive!"

The fire almost touched the island, a few minutes and it would bealight, when with the rapidity of lightning, Bois-Rose glided into thewater and disappeared. Shouts rose from each side of the river, whenthe Indians, as well as Fabian and Pepe, saw the floating mass trembleunder his powerful grasp. The fire blazed up brightly for a moment, then the water hissed and the mass of flame was extinguished in foam, until darkness and fog once more spread their sombre covering over theriver. The blackened tree, turned from its course, passed by theisland, while, amidst the howls of the Indians Bois-Rose rejoined hisfriends. The whole island shook under his efforts to get back upon it. 

"Howl at your ease, " cried he, "you have not captured as yet; but, " headded, in a more serious tone, "shall we be always as lucky?"

Indeed, although this danger was surmounted, how many remained to beconquered! Who could foresee what new stratagems the Indians mightemploy against them? These reflections damped their first feeling oftriumph. All at once Pepe started up, crying out as he did so:

"Bois-Rose, Fabian, we are saved!"

"Saved!" said Bois-Rose, "what do you mean?"

"Did you not remark how a few hours ago the whole islet trembled underour hands when we tore away some branches to fortify ourselves with, andhow you yourself made it shake just now? well, I thought once of makinga raft, but now I believe we three can uproot the whole island and setit floating. The fog is thick, the night dark and to-morrow--"

"We shall be far from here!" cried Bois-Rose. "To work! to work! wehave no time to spare, for the rising wind indicates the approach ofmorning, and the river does not run more than three knots an hour. "

"So much the better, the movement will be less visible. "

The brave Canadian grasped the hands of his comrades as he rose to hisfeet. 

"What are you going to do?" said Fabian, "cannot we three uproot theisland, as Pepe said?"

"Doubtless, Fabian, but we risk breaking, it in pieces, and our safetydepends upon keeping it together. It is, perhaps, some large branch orroot which holds it in its place. Many years must have elapsed sincethese trees were first driven here, and the water has probably renderedthis branch or root very rotten--that is what I wish to find out. "

At that moment the doleful screech of an owl interrupted them, and thoseplaintive cries troubling the silence of night, just as they were aboutto entertain some hope, sounded ominous in the ears of Pepe. 

"Ah!" said he, sadly, all his superstition reviving, "the voice of theowl at this moment seems to me to announce no good fortune to us. "

"The imitation is perfect, I allow, " said Bois-Rose, "but you must notbe thus deceived. It is an Indian sentinel who calls to his companionseither to warn them to be watchful, or what is more like theirdiabolical spirit, to remind us that they are watching us. It is a kindof death-song with which they wish to regale us. "

As he spoke, the same sound was repeated from the opposite bank withdifferent modulations, confirming his words, but it sounded none theless terrible as it revealed all the perils and ambushes hidden by thedarkness of the night. 

"I have a great mind to call to them to roar more like tigers that theyare. "

"Do not; it would only enable them to know our exact position. "

So saying, the Canadian entered the water with extreme care, while hiscomrades followed his movements with anxious eyes. 

"Well, " said Pepe, when Bois-Rose came to the surface to take breath, "are we firmly fixed?"

"All is well, I think, " replied Bois-Rose, "I see at present but onething that keeps the islet at anchor. Have patience a while. "

"Take care not to get too far under, " said Fabian, "or you may be caughtin the roots and branches. "

"Have no fear, child; a whale may sooner remain fixed to a fishing-boatwhich it can toss twenty feet into the air, than I under an islet that Icould break to pieces with a blow. "

The river closed again over his head, and a tolerably long space of timeelapsed during which the presence of Bois-Rose was indicated only by theeddies formed round the islet, which now tottered on its foundation. His comrades felt that the giant was making a powerful effort, andFabian's heart sank as he thought that he might be struggling withdeath; when a crash was heard under their feet, like that of a ship'stimbers striking against a rock, and Bois-Rose reappeared above thesurface, his hair streaming with water. With one bound he regained theisland, which began to move slowly down the river. An enormous root, some depth in the water, had given way to the vigorous strength of thecolossus, and the islet was set free. 

"God be praised!" cried he, "the last obstacle is vanquished and we areafloat. " As he spoke the island could be perceived advancing downstream, slowly it is true, but surely. 

"Now, " continued he, "our life rests in the hands of God. If the islandfloats down the middle of the stream we shall soon, thanks to the fog, be out of sight or reach of the Indians. Oh! my God, " added he, fervently, "a few hours more of darkness and your creatures will besaved. "

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. 

THE FLOATING ISLET. 

The three men kept silence as they followed with anxious eyes themovement of the floating island. Day would soon break, but thefreshness of the night, which always increases an hour or two beforesunrise, had condensed more and more the vapours which rose from thewater. The fires on the bank appeared only like stars, which grow palein the heavens at the approach of dawn. From this source, therefore, they had little to fear; but another danger menaced the three hunters. The island followed the stream, but turned round as it went, and theyfeared that in this continual rotation it might deviate from the centreof the liver and strike on one of the banks on which the Indians wereencamped. 

Like the sailor who, with a heart full of anguish, follows the movementsof his ship, almost disabled by the storm, and contemplates with terrorthe breakers into which he is perhaps destined to be driven, thus thethree hunters--a prey to the most cruel anxiety--regarded in silence theuncertain progress of their island. When sometimes the border of osiersand reeds which surrounded the island trembled in the breeze whichproceeded from one of the banks, it seemed then to be driven towards theopposite side. Sometimes it went straight along with the current, butin any event, the efforts of those who were on it could do nothing todirect it. Luckily the fog was so thick that the very trees whichbordered the river were invisible. 

"Courage, " muttered Pepe; "as long as we cannot see the trees it is asign that we are going on rightly. Ah! if God but favour us, many ahowl will resound along these banks, now so peaceful, when at daybreakthe Indians find neither the island nor those it sheltered. "

"Yes, " replied Bois-Rose, "it was a grand idea, Pepe; in the trouble ofmy mind I should not have thought of it, and yet it was such a simplething. "

"Simple ideas are always the last to present themselves, " rejoined Pepe. "But do you know, Bois-Rose, " added he, in a low voice, "it proves thatin the desert it is imprudent to venture with one whom you love morethan life, since fear for him takes away a man's senses. I tell youfrankly, Bois-Rose, you have not been like yourself. "

"It is true; I scarcely recognise myself, " replied the Canadian, simply;"and yet--"

He did not finish, but fell into a profound reverie, during which, likea man whose body only is present, and his soul absent, he appeared nolonger to watch the movements of the island. For the hunter who, duringtwenty years has lived the free life of the desert, to renounce thislife seemed like death; but to renounce the society of Fabian, and theconsolation of having his eyes closed by his adopted son, was stillworse than death. Fabian and the desert were the two dominantaffections of his life, and to abandon either seemed impossible. 

His reverie, however, was soon interrupted by Pepe, who had for someminutes been casting uneasy glances towards one of the banks. Throughthe fog he fancied he could perceive the fantastic forms which treesappear to take in a mist. They looked like indistinct phantoms, coveredwith long draperies, hanging over the river. 

"We are going wrong, Bois-Rose, " said he, "are not those the tops of thewillows on the bank?"

"It is true, " cried Bois-Rose, rousing himself; "and by the fires beingstill visible it is evident how little progress we have made in the lasthalf hour. "

At that moment the island began to move more rapidly, and the treesbecame more distinct. The hunters looked anxiously at each other. Oneof the fires was more clearly seen, and they could even distinguish anIndian sentinel in his frightful battle-costume. The long mane of abison covered his head, and above that waved a plume of feathers. Bois-Rose pointed him out to Pepe, but luckily the fog was so thick thatthe Indian, rendered himself visible by the fire, near which he stood, could not yet see the island. However, as if an instinct had warned himto be watchful, he raised his head and shook back the flowing hair whichornamented it. 

"Can he have any suspicion?" said Bois-Rose. 

"Ah! if a rifle made no more noise than an arrow, with what pleasure Ishould send that human buffalo to mount guard in another world, " repliedPepe. 

Just then they saw the Indian stick his lance in the ground, and leaningforward, shade his eyes with his hands so as to concentrate their power. A keen anxiety was in their hearts as they watched him. The ferociouswarrior bending down like a wild beast ready to spring, his face halfcovered with the straggling hair, was hideous and terrible to look upon;but the fugitives would only have laughed at the spectacle had they nothad so much to dread. All at once, the Apache after remaining a fewminutes in this attentive attitude, walked towards the bank anddisappeared from sight--for nothing was visible except in the circle oflight thrown by the fire. It was a moment of intense anxiety for thefugitives, as the island continued to glide silently on. 

"Has he seen us?" murmured Pepe. 

"I fear so. "

A doleful cry now caused them to start. It was repeated from theopposite side; it was the signal of the sentinels one to the other, butall became again silent. Bois-Rose uttered a murmur of relief, as hesaw the man return to his former place and attitude. It was a falsealarm. 

Still the island continued to approach the bank. 

"At this rate, " said Bois-Rose, "in ten minutes we shall fall into thehands of the Indians. If we could but paddle a little with that greatbranch, we should soon be in the right direction again, but the noise, Ifear, would betray us. "

"Nevertheless, " replied Pepe, "it is what we must do, it is better torun the chance of betraying ourselves, than be drifted into the hands ofour enemies. But first, let us see if the current in which we now are, runs towards the bank. If it does, we must hesitate no longer, andalthough the branch of a tree is more noisy in the water than an oar, wemust do our best to paddle in silence. "

Pepe then gently broke off a piece of wood and placed it on the water, and leaning over the edge, he and Bois-Rose watched it anxiously. Therewas in that place a violent eddy, caused by some deep hole in the bed ofthe river. For a moment the wood turned round as though going to sink, then it took a direction opposite to the bank, towards which they weredriving. Both uttered a stifled exclamation of joy, as their islandalso, after a moment's stoppage, began to float away from the shore, andthe increasing thickness of the fog assured them that they were takingthe right course. 

About an hour passed thus, amidst poignant alternatives of fear andhope; then the bivouac fires were lost in the distance, and thefugitives perceived that they were nearly out of danger. Reassured bythis belief Bois-Rose placed himself at one end of the islet, andpaddled vigorously, until the raft, ceasing to gyrate, advanced moreswiftly down the current, like a horse long abandoned to his owncaprices, who feels at last the hand and spur of an able rider. Keepingwhere the water was deepest, they now proceeded at a considerable rateof speed, and began to think themselves entirely out of danger. 

"Daylight will not be long in appearing, " said Bois-Rose, "and we mustnow land and endeavour to get on faster; we shall go twice as fast onfoot as on this island, which sails slower than a Dutch lugger. "

"Well! land where you like, Bois-Rose, and we will follow. Let us wadedown the stream a bit, so as to hide our traces from the Indians; andeven if we have to carry the wounded man, we can manage two leagues anhour. Do you think, Don Fabian, that the Golden Valley is far off?"

"You saw the sun go down behind the foggy mountains which shut in thisvalley, " replied Fabian. "It lies at their foot--we cannot be manyhours' march from it. "

Bois-Rose now gave to the island an oblique direction, and in about aquarter of an hour, it struck violently against the bank. While Pepeand Fabian jumped ashore, the Canadian took the wounded man in his arms, and laid him gently down. This awoke him, and opening his eyes andthrowing round him an astonished glance, he murmured, "Virgen Santa!shall I again hear those frightful howls which troubled my sleep?"

"No, my lad, the Indians are far off now, and we are in safety. ThankGod, who has permitted me to save all that are dear to me--my childFabian and my old friend. "

They then prepared to continue their course. 

"If you are not able to walk, " said Pepe to Gayferos, "we shallconstruct a kind of litter to carry you on. We have no time to lose ifwe wish to escape these wretches, who, as soon as daylight appears, willbegin to chase us as eagerly as ever they chased a white enemy. "

So great was the desire of Gayferos to escape, that he almost forgot thepain he was enduring, and declaring that he would follow his liberatorsas quickly as they could go themselves, he begged them to set off atonce. 

"We have some precautions to take first, " said Bois-Rose; "rest a fewminutes while we break to pieces and commit to the current this raft, which has been so useful to us. It is important the Indians should nottrace us. "

All three set to work, and already disjointed by the breaking of theroot which held it, and by the shock it had received on touching theshore, the floating island opposed no great resistance to their efforts. The trunks of the trees which composed it, were torn asunder and pushedinto the current--which carried them quickly away--and there soonremained no vestige of what it had taken years to construct. When thelast branch had disappeared from their eyes, Bois-Rose and Pepe busiedthemselves in raising up the stalks of the plants, to efface the marksof their feet, and then all prepared to start. They first entered thewater and walked along the edge, so as to leave no footmarks, and tolead the Indians to suppose that they had remained on the island. Itwas too fatiguing for them to walk very quickly; but, in about an hour, just as their wounded feet were about to force them to make halt, theyarrived at the fork of two rivers which formed a delta. In this deltalay the Golden Valley. Daylight was just beginning to appear in thehorizon, and a grey tint upon the sky was taking the place of darkness. Luckily the arm of the river that they had to cross was not deep, themass of the water flowing in the opposite direction. This wasfortunate, for the wounded man could not swim. Bois-Rose lifted him onhis shoulders, and all three waded through the water, which scarcelyreached to their knees. The chain of mountains was only about a leagueoff, and after a short rest, all resumed their way with renewed ardour. 

Soon the country changed its aspect. To the fine sand--for the triangleformed by the junction of the two rivers was inundated during part ofthe year--succeeded deep ruts, and then dry beds of streams, hollowedout by the torrents in the rainy season. Instead of the narrow borderof willows and cotton-trees which shaded the deserted banks, green oaksrose up, and the landscape terminated in the line of the foggymountains. All looked strange and imposing, and rarely had the foot ofa white man pressed this desert clothed in its virgin wildness. PerhapsMarcos Arellanos and Cuchillo were the only white men who had everwandered to this remote place. A vague sentiment of awe caused thehunters involuntarily to lower their voices before the supernaturalcharm of this austere landscape. Those hills, enveloped in mist--evenwhen the plains shone with the blazing rays of the sun--seemed to hidesome impenetrable mystery. It might be fancied that the invisibleguardians of the treasures, the lords of the mountains according toIndian superstition, were hidden under this veil of eternal vapour. 

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. 

THE FINGER OF GOD. 

After a short journey, fatigue and suffering overcame the wounded man;and as it was imperative that he should not become acquainted with thesituation of the Golden Valley, or even be made aware of its existence, Bois-Rose and Pepe resolved, now that he was in safety, to leave him forsome hours and employ the time in reconnoitring the places described toFabian by his adopted mother. 

"Listen, my lad!" said Bois-Rose to Gayferos, "we have given you quitesufficient proofs of devotion, and now we must leave you for half orperhaps a whole day. We have some business in hand which requires threedetermined men; if this evening or to-morrow morning we are still alive, you shall see us return; if not, you know it will not be our fault. Here is water and dried meat, and twenty-four hours will soon pass. "

It was not without regret that Gayferos consented to this separation;however, reassured by a new promise from the generous hunters, to whomhe owed so much, he resigned himself to being left behind. 

"I have one last word to say to you, " said Bois-Rose. "If chance bringhere any of the companions from whom you so unluckily separated, I exactfrom you, as the sole return for the service which we have rendered toyou, that you will reveal to none of them our presence here. As foryour own, you can account for it in any way you like. "

Gayferos made the required promise, and they then took leave of him. 

On the point of accomplishing one of his most ardent desires, that ofenriching the child of his affection and adding immense treasures to hisfuture fortune, Bois-Rose seemed to forget that it would raise anadditional barrier between Fabian and himself. 

Pepe, anxious to repair as far as possible the involuntary injury thathe had caused to the Mediana family, walked along with an elastic step. Fabian alone did not seem happy, and after a quarter of an hour hestopped, saying that he needed rest. All three sat down on a littlehillock, and Pepe, pointing to the mountains, cried, in a tone of gayreproach, "What! Don Fabian! does not the neighbourhood of thoseplaces, so fertile in gold, give new vigour to your limbs?"

"No, " replied Fabian, "for I shall not go a step further in thatdirection till sunrise. "

"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, "and why not?"

"Why? Because this is a cursed place--a place where he--whom before youI loved as a father--was assassinated; because a thousand dangerssurround you, and I have already exposed you too much by making youespouse my cause. "

"What are these dangers that we three together cannot brave? Can theybe greater than what we have just passed through? And if it please Pepeand I to incur them for you, what then?"

"These dangers are of all kinds, " replied Fabian, "why deceive oneselflonger? Does not everything prove that Don Estevan knows also of theexistence of the Golden Valley?"

"Well, and what do you conclude from that?"

"That three men cannot prevail against sixty. "

"Listen, my child, " replied Bois-Rose with some impatience, "it wasbefore engaging in this enterprise that we should have made thesereflections; now they are too late, and why do you not think to-day asyou did yesterday?"

"Because yesterday I was blinded by passion; because affection has nowtaken its place; because I do not hope to-day what I hoped yesterday. "

The contradictory passions which agitated his heart did not permitFabian to explain more clearly to the Canadian the alternations of hiswishes. 

"Fabian, " said Bois-Rose solemnly, "you have a holy but terrible duty toperform, and duty must be done; but who tells you that the expeditioncommanded by Don Estevan will take the same path as ourselves? And, ifit does, so much the better; the murderer of your mother will fall intoyour hands. "

"The guide conducting them, " replied Fabian, seeking to hide his realsentiments, "can only be that miserable Cuchillo. Now, if I am notwrong, the valley must be known to him; in any case, we should await thereturn of daylight before entangling ourselves in a country we knownothing about, and in which these adventurers may prove enemies asformidable as the Indians. Do you not think so, Pepe?"

"Nearly all night, the wind has brought to our ears, " replied he, "thesound of filing, which proves that the troop has been engaged with theIndians; it is not therefore probable that any one can be in advance ofus. I must say that my opinion is, that we should without loss of timegain some place in the mountains where we may engage in a lastinevitable struggle with our enemies; some well chosen spot where we candefend ourselves with a chance of success. "

"It is this unequal struggle that I wish to avoid, " replied Fabian, warmly. "As long as I could hope to overtake, before they readiedTubac, those whom Providence seemed to point out for my vengeance, andattack them while they were only five against three, I pursued themwithout reflection; as long as I could believe that this expedition had, like so many others, entered the desert only in search of some unknownspot, I followed them. But what has happened? After four days in whichwe took a different path, do we not find them near these mountains?Their aim is therefore the same as ours. Three men cannot fight againstsixty; therefore God forbid that to further either my vengeance or mycupidity, I should sacrifice two generous friends whose lives are moreprecious to me than my own!"

"Child, " cried Bois-Rose, "do you not see that every one is here forhimself, and yet that our three interests are but one? When for thesecond time, God sent you to my arms, were we not already pursuing theman who was ruining your hopes, and had already assassinated yourmother, and stolen your name? For ten years Pepe and I have been butone; the friends of one have been the friends of the other, and you arePepe's son, because you are mine, Fabian my child; and thanks be to Godthat in serving our own cause we are also serving yours. Whateverhappens, then we shall not take a step backwards. "

"Besides, " said Pepe, "do you count for nothing, Don Fabian, heaps ofgold, and a whole life of abundance for an imaginary peril? for I repeatwe must reach the valley first, and a day--an hour--in advance mayenrich us forever; you see then that _we_ are egotists trying tosacrifice _you_ to our personal interest. "

"Pepe is right, " said Bois-Rose, "we want gold. "

"What will you do with it?" asked Fabian, smiling. 

"What will I do with it? the child asks what I will do with it!" criedBois-Rose. 

"Yes, I wish to know. "

"What will I do with it?" replied the honest Canadian, whom thisquestion embarrassed much, "parbleu--I will do--many things, I will givemy rifle a golden barrel, " cried he, triumphantly. 

Pepe smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

"You laugh, " said Bois-Rose. "Do you think that when you finish off anApache, a Sioux, or a Pawnee with a blow of your knife, it would not begrand to say to him, `Dog, the ball that broke your head came from arifle of solid gold!' Few hunters can say as much. "

"I agree to that, " said Fabian; then added he seriously, "No, myfriends! Don Estevan escapes my vengeance, and the gold that I believewould be mine escapes me also, for it is surrounded by soldiers. Whatmatters? have I not still, if I should become ambitious, the name andfortunes of my forefathers to reclaim? Are there not in Spain tribunalswhich dispense justice to all? God will do the rest, but I will notmadly expose two noble lives. I do not speak of mine; young as I am, Ihave drunk the cup of bitterness to the dregs. You have done enough, and your generous subterfuges cannot impose upon me. "

So saying, Fabian held out his hands to the two hunters, who pressedthem in an affectionate grasp. The Canadian looked silently for aminute at the noble face of him whom he was proud to call his son, andthen said:

"Fabian, my child, all my life has been passed on the sea or in deserts, but I have preserved sufficient remembrance of cities and their customsto know that justice is rather sold than given. This gold we shallemploy in making of you what you were intended to be; this gold, willsmooth all the obstacles against which your rightful cause might breakdown. Pepe can tell you, like me, that we shall gladly expose our livesin the hope of restoring to you the property of your ancestors, and theillustrious name that you are so worthy to bear. "

"Yes, " said Pepe, "I have told you that the early part of my life wasnot such as I should wish. It was a little the fault of the SpanishGovernment, which never paid me for my services; still it is a weightupon my heart. Often, I think sadly of my past life, but God alwayspardons the repentant sinner, and gives him opportunity of repentance. That day has arrived; my pardon is near, and it is but justice that Ishould assist in restoring to you what I helped to take away. "

"Let us go on then!" said Bois-Rose, "God has hitherto shown us our pathand will continue to aid us. If you stay, Fabian, we shall go alone. "

So saying, the Canadian rose, and throwing his rifle over his shoulderbegan his march. Fabian was forced to yield, and all proceeded towardsthe mountains. 

Daylight had not yet quite appeared when a new actor advanced in histurn towards the same scenes. He came alone; his horse in its impetuouscourse made the sand fly under his feet, and the rider, who was no otherthan Cuchillo, showed symptoms on his sinister countenance of somesecret terror. His flight might not have been unobserved even in thetumult of action, or some of the Indians might have noticed hisdesertion, and hence his fears. But Cuchillo was not a man to undertakea bold stroke without calculating the chances. As a hunter wishing totake the lion's whelps, throws him some bait to distract his attention, so Cuchillo had delivered to the lords of the desert his companions as aprey. He had calculated that the struggle would last a great part ofthe night, and that conquered or conquering, the adventurers would notdare, during the following day, to leave their intrenchments. He wouldtherefore have long hours before him in which to seize on some of thetreasures of the Golden Valley, with which he would afterwards return tothe protection of his companions, and when they all reached the place hecould still claim his share as soldier and as guide. Pretexts would notfail him for this second absence, but he had forgotten to calculate onDon Estevan's suspicions concerning him. To conclude his bargain withhim he had been forced to give such a precise account of the situationof the valley that Don Estevan could scarcely miss the right road. After Cuchillo, followed by his horse, had glided out from the camp hehad ridden straight towards the mountains, and cupidity, the mostblinding of passions, had closed his eyes to the danger of his plan. 

His heart palpitating with alternate hopes and fears, he had advancedrapidly, and only stopped occasionally to listen to the vague murmurs ofthe desert. Then recognising the groundlessness of his apprehensions, he had continued his road with renewed ardour. 

Sometimes also the aspect of the places he had seen before, awakenedgloomy souvenirs. On that hillock, he had rested with Marcos Arellanos;that nopal had furnished them with refreshing fruit; they had bothcontemplated with mysterious terror the strange aspect of the MistyMountains, and his horse in its rapid course carried the murderer to thespot where his victim had fallen beneath his blows! Then to the fear ofenemies succeeded that inspired by conscience, which while it oftensleeps by day, awakes and resumes its empire during the night. Thebushes--the thorny nopals--rose before him like accusing phantoms, opposing his advance with extended arms; a cold perspiration stood onhis brow, but cupidity, stronger than fear, spurred him on towards thevalley, and he began to laugh at his own apprehensions. 

"Phantoms, " said he, "are like alcaldes, who never address poor devilslike me; but let me only get one or two arrobas of gold, and I shallhave so many masses said for the soul of Arellanos, that he will be gladto have met his death in such generous hands. "

He laughed at this quaint conceit, and then rode on quickly. In a fewminutes he stopped and listened again, but heard no noise save the loudbreathing of his horse. 

"I am alone, " thought he; "those brutes whom I have guided are fightingto give me leisure to despoil the sands of some of that precious gold. Who is to prevent me presently, when daylight appears, from picking upas much as I can carry without betraying my secret? This time, it willnot be as when along with Arellanos; I shall not have to fly from theIndians: they are busy. Afterwards I can come back with such of mycompanions as escape the Apaches. How many will remain to partake withme? Oh! the thought of these treasures makes the blood boil in myveins. Is it not gold that gives glory, pleasure, and every good ofthis world? our priests say its power extends even beyond the tomb!"

While Cuchillo was advancing blindly to where his destiny led him, DonEstevan and Pedro Diaz were also on their way. Although the hills werebut six leagues from the camp, yet, uncertain of the time of hisabsence, Don Estevan had left orders to his people to await his return. The two advanced silently, full of desire for the gold, but equallydesirous of intercepting the traitor. Two hours' quick riding hadproduced no result. Thanks to his advance, Cuchillo was invisible; andthe darkness would have hidden his track even from the eye of an Indian. 

"There is no doubt, " said Pedro Diaz, breaking silence, "that the knavemust have profited by the confusion to fly towards the valley, and seizeon a part of the treasures which he has sold to us. "

"That is not what I fear most, " said Don Estevan. "If Cuchillo has notexaggerated the riches of the place, there will be plenty left for allof us. But now so near attaining that for which I have crossed thedesert--after having left a position envied by all, to brave the dangersof an expedition like this--a vague fear of failing agitates me. Thedesert is like the sea, abounding in pirates, and the soul of Cuchillois full of treason: it seems to me that the villain will be fatal tous. "

Suddenly Diaz dismounted, and picked up off the sand a dark object; itwas a kind of valise, which Diaz at once recognised as belonging toCuchillo. 

"This shows you, Senor, " said he, "that we are in the right path, andthat the coming day will bring us into the presence of the traitor. "

"It shall then be his last treason, " said Don Estevan; and they now rodesilently on with the certainty that Cuchillo was before them. 

Strange chain of coincidences! When the sun appeared in the horizon, the different actors in this drama, apparently drawn together byaccident, but in truth impelled onwards by the hand of God, had met inthe most inaccessible part of the great American desert. 

CHAPTER FORTY SIX. 

THE GOLDEN VALLEY. 

The darkness was no longer that of midnight--the outlines of thedifferent objects began to be visible, and the peaks of the hills lookedlike domes or fantastic turrets in the half-light. Detached from themass of the mountains, a rock in the form of a truncated cone towered uplike an outwork. A cascade fell noisily from an adjacent hill into adeep gulf below, and in front of the rock a row of willows andcotton-trees indicated the neighbourhood of a stream. Then the immenseplain of the delta formed by the two arms of the Rio Gila (which fromeast to west cuts for itself a double passage through the chain of theMisty Mountains) displayed itself in all its sombre majesty. Such werethe striking points of the landscape which opened before the travellers. 

Soon the blue light of morning replaced the darkness, and the summits ofthe hills one by one became visible. On the top of the rock two pinescould now be seen, their bending stems and dark foliage extending overthe abyss. At their foot the skeleton of a horse, held up by hiddenfastenings, showed upon his whitened bones the savage ornaments withwhich he had been embellished, and fragments of the saddle still restedupon his back. The increasing light soon shone on more sinisteremblems: on posts raised in different places, and human scalps floatingon them. These hideous trophies indicated the burial-place of an Indianwarrior. In fact a renowned chief reposed there; and his spiritoverlooked, like the genius of plunder, those plains where his war-cryhad so often resounded, and which he had ridden over on thatbattle-horse whose bones were whitening by his tomb. Birds of prey flewover his grave, uttering their shrill cries, as if they would awaken himwho slept there forever, and whose cold hand would no longer prepare forthem their bloody feasts. 

A few minutes later the horizon became tinted with pale rose-colouredclouds, and soon after, like the first spark of a fire, a ray ofsunlight struck like a golden arrow on the thick fog, and floods oflight inundated the depths of the valley. Day had come in all itsglory, but wreaths of vapour still hung capriciously on the leaves ofthe trees or clung around the trunks. Soon were displayed wildprecipices, with falls of water foaming down their sides; then deepdefiles, at the entrance of which fantastic offerings of Indiansuperstition were suspended. 

Above the tomb of the Indian chief rose the spray of the cascade, inwhich was reflected the colours of the rainbow; and lastly, a valley wasvisible, closed on one side by peaked rocks, from which hung longdraperies of verdure, and on the other by a lake, whose waters werehalf-hidden by the aquatic plants on its surface: this was the GoldenValley. 

At the first glance the whole scene only offered the sombre features ofa wild nature; but the scrutinising eye would soon have divined thetreasures concealed there. Nothing betrayed the presence of livingthings in that deserted place, when the three hunters made theirappearance on the spot. 

"If the devil has an abode anywhere on the earth, " said Pepe, pointingto the mountains, "it must surely be among those wild denies!

"But if it be true, " continued he, "that it is gold which is the causeof most crimes, it is more probable that the old fellow has chosen theGolden Valley for his abode, which contains, according to you, DonFabian, enough to ruin an entire generation. "

"You are right, " said Fabian, who looked pale and grave, "it was hereperhaps that the unlucky Marcos Arellanos was assassinated. Ah! if thisplace could speak, I should know the name of him whom I have sworn topursue: but the wind and the rain have effaced the traces of the victimas well as those of the murderer. "

"Patience, my child!" replied Bois-Rose; "I have never in the course ofa long life known crime to go unpunished. Often we recover the tracesthat were believed to have been long effaced, and even solitudesometimes raises its voice against the guilty. If the assassin be notdead, cupidity will doubtless bring him again to this place, and beforelong; for no doubt he is one of those in the Mexican camp. Now, Fabian, shall we wait for the enemy here, or shall we fill our pockets with goldand return?"

"I know not what to decide, " replied Fabian; "I came here almost againstmy will. I obey your wishes, or else a will stronger than either yoursor mine. I feel that an invisible hand impels me on--as it did on thatevening when, scarcely knowing what I did, I came and sat down by yourfire. Why should I, who do not know what to do with this gold, risk mylife to obtain it? I know not. I know only that here I am, with a sadheart and a soul filled with cruel uncertainty. "

"Man is but the plaything of Providence, it is true, " said Bois-Rose;"but as for the sadness you feel, the aspect of these placessufficiently accounts for it; and as for--"

A hoarse cry, that scarcely appeared human, interrupted the Canadian. It seemed to come from the Indian tomb, as if it were an accusing voiceagainst the invaders of this abode of the dead. The three huntersglanced simultaneously towards the tomb, but no living creature wasvisible there. The eye of one of the birds of prey, that were sailingabove the rock, could alone have told where the cry came from. Theimposing solemnity of the place, the bloody souvenirs evoked by it inFabian's mind, and the superstitious ones in that of Pepe, joined to thestrange and mysterious sound, inspired in both a feeling akin to terror. There was something so inexplicable in the sound, that for a momentthey doubted having heard it. 

"Is it really the voice of a man?" said Bois-Rose, "or only one of thosesingular echoes which resound in these mountains?"

"If it were a human voice, " asked Fabian, "where did it come from? itseemed to be above us, and yet I see no one on the top of the hill!"

"God send, " said Pepe, crossing himself, "that in these mountains whichabound in inexplicable noises, and where lightning shines under a calmsky, we have only men to fight against! But if the fog contained alegion of devils--if the valley really contains, as you say, severalyears' income of the king of Spain, please, Senor Don Fabian, to recallyour recollections, and tell us if we are still far off it. "

Fabian threw a glance around him; the landscape was just what had beenso minutely described to him. 

"We must be close to the spot, " said he, "for it should be at the footof the tomb of the Indian chief--and these ornaments indicate that therock is the tomb. We have no time to lose. You and Bois-Rose walkaround the rock, while I go and examine those cotton-trees and willows. "

"I am suspicious of everything in this mysterious place, " saidBois-Rose; "that cry indicates the presence of a human being; andwhether white or red, he is to be feared. Before we separate, let meexamine the _sign_. "

All three bent on the ground eyes accustomed to read there as in an openbook. The prints of a man's feet were visible on the sand, and one ofthem had trodden down the plants, whose stems were still gently risingup again one after the other. 

"What did I tell you?" cried Bois-Rose. "Here are the tracks of a whiteman's feet, and I swear it is not ten minutes since he was here. Thesefootmarks lead towards yonder cotton-trees. "

"In any case he is alone, " suggested Fabian. 

All three were advancing towards the trees, when Bois-Rose halted. 

"Let me go first, " said he; "this hedge may hide the enemy. But no, theman who has left these footprints has only pulled open the vines andglanced through--he has not gone further in that direction. "

So saying, Bois-Rose, in his turn, pulled aside the branches and theclimbing network which was interwoven with them, and after a shortexamination, which had no particular result, he retired and left thebranches to reclose of themselves. He then tried to follow the tracksbut further on the ground became stony, and all traces disappeared. 

"Let us go round this conical rock, " suggested Bois-Rose. 

"Come, Pepe; Fabian will wait here for us. "

The two hunters strode off, and Fabian remained alone and pensive. ThisGolden Valley, of whose possession he had dreamt at that time when hisheart nourished sweet hopes, was now near to him. What had been a dreamwas now a reality, and still he was more unhappy than at the time whenhopeful love caused him to scoff at poverty. It is thus that happinessflies just as we are about to seize it. Sometimes in the silence of theforest, the traveller lends a greedy ear to the notes of themocking-bird, and advances with precaution towards the place where, hidden under the foliage, the bird of the solitudes utters its sweetsong. Vain hope! he advances, and the singer flies, his voice still asdistant and himself as invisible as ever! Thus man often hears in thedistance voices which sing to him of happiness; seduced by their charmhe rushes toward them; but they fly at his approach; and his whole lifeis passed in pursuing, without ever reaching, the happiness promised bythese delusive sounds. 

For Fabian, happiness lay no longer in the Golden Valley. It existednowhere. No voice now sang for him; he had no aim to pursue; no flyingbut charming image which he hoped to overtake. He was in one of thosemoods that God in His mercy makes rare in our lives--during which all isdark, as when at sea the light that guides the sailor becomes suddenlyobscured. 

He advanced mechanically towards the thick row of trees that formed analmost impenetrable hedge before him, but scarcely had he made a passagefor himself when he stopped motionless with surprise. The sunlightshone on the stones thick as those on a beach, and discoveredinnumerable glancing objects. Any other than a gold-seeker might havebeen deceived by these stones, which looked like vitrifications at thefoot of a volcano; but the practised eye of Fabian instantly recognisedthe virgin gold under its clayey envelope, as it is brought down by thetorrents from the gold-producing mountains. Before his eyes lay therichest treasure that was ever displayed to the view of man. 

If the breeze could have brought to the ears of the young Count ofMediana the accents of Rosarita's voice, when she recalled him back tothe hacienda, he would gladly have quitted all these treasures to runtowards her. But the breeze was mute, and there is in gold soirresistible an attraction that Fabian, in spite of his sadness, was forthe moment fascinated. 

However, the soul of Fabian was not one to be intoxicated by success;and after a few minutes of this enthusiasm, he called his twocompanions. They came at his call. 

"Have you found him?" said Pepe. 

"The treasure, but not the man. See!" added he, pushing aside thetrees. 

"What! those shining stones!"

"Are pure gold--treasures which God has hidden during centuries. "

"My God!" exclaimed Pepe. 

And with ardent eyes fixed upon the mass of riches before him, theex-carabinier fell upon his knees. Passions long kept under seemed torush back into his heart; a complete transformation took place in him, and the sinister expression of his face recalled to mind the hour ofcrime, when twenty years before he had bargained for the price of blood. 

"Now, " said Fabian, looking sadly at the gold, as he thought that allthese riches were not worth to him a smile or look from her who haddisdained him, "I understand how these two rivers, in their annual rise, and by their torrents that descend from the Misty Mountains, coveringthis narrow valley, bring down gold with them; the position of thisvalley is perhaps unique in all the world. "

But the Spaniard heard him not. Riches--which the rough lesson he hadreceived, and the life of independence and the savage happiness he hadenjoyed, had taught him during the last ten years to disdain--suddenlyresumed their terrible influence over his soul. 

"You could not have imagined, could you, Pepe?" continued Fabian, "thatso much gold could be collected in one place? I, who have been so longa gold-seeker, could not have imagined it, even after all I had heard. "

Pepe did not reply; his eye wandered eagerly over the blocks of gold, and cast a strange glance on Fabian and on Bois-Rose. The hitter, standing in his favourite attitude, his arm resting on his rifle, amidstall these treasures, looked only at what was dearest to him--the youngman restored to him by heaven. Pepe had before him, on one side, hisold companion in danger--in a hundred different battles they had utteredtheir war-cry together, like those brothers in arms in ancient chivalrictimes, who fought always under the same banner--who shared cold, hunger, and thirst together. 

On the other side, the young man, partly orphaned by his crime--a crimewhich had occasioned him remorse through so many years--the love andsole thought of his only friend in the world; and the demon of cupidityat his heart effaced all these souvenirs, and he already began tothink--

A shudder passed through his frame as strange thoughts crossed his mind. A struggle took place within him, a struggle of the feelings of youthwith the more noble ones developed by the life of nature, where manseems brought near to God; but this struggle was short: the old outlawdisappeared, and there remained only the man purified by repentance andsolitude. Still kneeling on the ground, Pepe had closed his eyes, and afurtive tear, unperceived by his companions, stole from his eyes, androlled down his bronzed cheeks. 

"Senor Don Fabian de Mediana!" cried he, starting up, "you are now arich and powerful lord, for all this gold belongs to you alone. "

So saying, he advanced and bowed respectfully to Fabian, who appearedsomewhat surprised by the manner of his salutation. 

"God forbid, " cried Fabian, "that you, who have shared the peril, shouldnot share the treasure. What do you say, Bois-Rose? do you not rejoiceto become in your old age rich and powerful?"

But Bois-Rose, unmoved before all the riches, contented himself withshaking his head, while a smile of tenderness for Fabian testified tothe only interest that he took in that marvellous spectacle!

"I think like Pepe, " said he, after a pause, "what could I do with thisgold that the world covets? If it has for us an inestimable value, itis because it is to belong to you; the possession of the least of thesestones would take away in our eyes from the value of the service we haverendered you. But the time for action has arrived; for certainly we arenot alone in these solitudes. "

Pepe now began to pull aside the branches, but scarcely had he enteredthe valley when the sound of a gun was distinctly heard. In a momenthis voice reassured his anxious comrades. 

"It is the devil, " cried he, "forbidding us to encroach on his domains;but at all events it is a devil whose aim is not infallible. "

Before entering the valley Bois-Rose and Fabian raised their eyes to thetop of the hill, whence the shot as well as the voice had proceeded. But the remains of the fog at that moment covered the top of the rock, and all three rushed simultaneously towards the isolated mass where theybelieved their enemy to be hidden. The sides, although steep, werecovered with brushwood, which rendered them easier to climb; but it wasa dangerous attempt, for the fog prevented them from seeing what enemieswere above. Fabian wished to go first, but the vigorous arm of theCanadian held him back, and meanwhile Pepe was half-way towards thesummit. Bois-Rose followed, begging Fabian to keep behind him. 

Pepe mounted boldly, undismayed by the foes that might be concealedbehind that mass of vapour, and soon disappeared under the mist. A cryof triumph soon warned his friends that he had arrived in safety. Bothhastened to join him, but found no one on the rock except Pepe himself!Just as, disappointed at their want of success, they were preparing todescend again, a sudden gust of wind drove off the fog, and allowed themto see to a distance. To the right and left the plain presented themost complete picture of the desert in its dreary sadness. They beheldarid steppes over which whirled clouds of sand, a burnt and sterileground, everywhere silence, everywhere solitude. At some distance offtwo men on horseback were seen advancing towards the rock, but at thedistance at which they were, it was impossible to distinguish eithertheir dress or the colour of their skin. 

"Must we sustain a new siege here?" said Bois-Rose. "Are these whitemen or Indians?"

"White or red, they are enemies, " said Pepe. 

While the three friends bent down, so as not to be observed, a man, until then invisible, cautiously entered the lake. He lifted with carethe floating leaves of the water lilies, and forming of them a shelterover its head, remained motionless, and the surface of the lake soonafter appeared as if undisturbed. This man was Cuchillo, the jackal, who, led by his evil destiny, had ventured to hunt on the ground of thelion. 

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN. 

THE PUNISHMENT OF TANTALUS. 

Cuchillo, after reaching the mountains, had halted. He had notforgotten the appearance of the place, and his heart trembled with fearand joy. After a few minutes he looked around him more calmly. It wasthen dark, and when he arrived at the rock, the damp vapours from thelake enveloped with a thick veil both the valley and the tomb. Thesound of the waterfall put an end to his uncertainties; he rememberedthat it fell into a gulf close by the golden placer. 

He had dismounted his horse, and sat down to wait for daylight; butscarcely had he done so when he bounded up as though bitten by aserpent. A fatal chance had led him to sit down on the very spot wherehe had struck Marcos Arellanos, and quick as lightning, every detail ofthe mortal struggle passed through his mind. However this feeling ofterror was of short duration. 

In that part of America, superstition has not established its empire asin the old countries of Europe, where the evening mists give to objectsfantastic aspects, and tend naturally to reflections upon thesupernatural. From this arises the sombre poesy of the north, which haspeopled our land with ghosts and phantoms. In the American solitudepeople fear the living more than the dead, and Cuchillo had too much tofear from men to waste many thoughts upon the ghost of Arellanos, and hehad soon quite banished the thought from his mind. 

Although he felt nearly certain that no one had seen him leave the camp, or had followed him, he resolved to climb the rock and look out over thedesert. The two pines, whose sombre verdure crowned the summit, appeared marvellously fit to shelter him from the eyes of the Indiansshould any be near. As he advanced, however, he could not resist takinga glance at the valley; for a sudden fear took possession of his mind:was it still untouched as he had left it?

One glance reassured him. Nothing was changed in the valley; there werestill the heaps of the shining metal. 

The traveller, devoured with thirst in the sandy desert, does not moregladly catch sight of the oasis at whose waters he desires to drink thandid Cuchillo the sight of the gold gleaming through the leaves of thetrees. 

Any other man would have hastened to seize as much of it as he couldcarry, and make off with his booty. But with Cuchillo, cupidity was apassion carried to its utmost limits; and before seizing it, the outlawwished to feast his eyes on the treasure of which he had dreamed for twoyears, and for which he would not hesitate to sacrifice the lives of allhis companions. After some moments of ecstatic contemplation, Cuchilloled his horse forward by the bridle, and having tied him to a tree, in adefile where the animal would be hidden from all eyes, he himselfmounted the rock. 

Arrived there, he looked around to assure himself that he was alone. Hewas soon satisfied, for at that moment neither of the other two partieswere visible. Assured by the silence that reigned around, he lookedtowards the cascade. The water, which seemed as it fell to form a curveof running silver, opened at one place, and displayed a block of gold, sparkling in the rays of the sun. The most enormous cocoanut that everhung on a tree did not surpass this block in size. Continually washedby the spray of the cascade, this gold appeared in all its brilliance, as if ready to escape from the silica which held it, and thus perhapsfor centuries this king's ransom had hung menacingly over the abyss!

At the sight of this block, which looked as though it might be seized bystretching out his hands, a thrill of joy passed through Cuchillo'sheart; and hanging over the precipice with extended arms, he gaveutterance to the cry which had been heard by the three hunters below. 

Soon, however, a spectacle, that Cuchillo was far from expecting towitness, drew from him another cry, but this time of rage. He had seena man, possessor like himself of the secret of the valley, treading withprofane foot on the treasure that he had believed wholly his. Bois-Roseand Fabian were hidden behind the trees; and thinking that Pepe wasalone, Cuchillo had fired at him, without taking time for a proper aim, and thus Pepe had escaped the ball that whistled past him. 

It would be impossible to paint his rage and stupefaction, when hiddenbehind the pine trees, he saw two men join Pepe, especially when in oneof them he recognised the terrible hunter whom he had seen engaged withthe tigers at Poza, and in the other, Fabian, who had already twiceescaped his vengeance. A mortal fear chilled his heart; he almost fellto the ground. Must he again fly from that Golden Valley, from whichfate seemed always to drive him?

Lucky for Cuchillo, the fog had hidden him from his enemies, and by thetime they had reached the top he had descended on the opposite side--after having just caught a glance of Don Estevan and his companion inthe distance. Here was a fresh subject of fear and surprise forCuchillo who, gliding like a serpent along the rocks, hid himself, as wehave seen, amid the leaves of the water lilies, to await the denouementof this strange adventure. Hidden from all eyes, he held himself inreadiness to profit by the approaching conflict between Don Estevan andFabian, and a shudder of diabolical joy mingled with that caused by thegold; he was like the rapacious bird which awaits the issue of thebattle to seize upon its prey. If the three hunters were victorious hehad little he thought to fear from Fabian, who was still in his eyesTiburcio Arellanos. The lower class of Mexicans think little of a blowwith the dagger, and he hoped that the one he had given might bepardoned, if he were to throw the blame upon Don Estevan. If this lastremained master of the field, he trusted to find some plausible excusefor his desertion. He decided therefore upon letting them begin thestruggle, and then, at the decisive moment, should come to theassistance of the strongest. 

While Cuchillo was endeavouring to console himself by these reasonings, Bois-Rose was able to distinguish the complexion of the new-comers. 

"They are from the Mexican camp, " said he. 

"I foresaw, " said Fabian, "that we should have the whole troop on ourhands, and be caught like wild horses in a stockade. "

"Hush!" said Bois-Rose, "and trust to me to protect you. Nothing yetshows that there are any others behind, and in any case we could not bebetter placed than on this rock; from here we might defy a whole tribeof savages. Besides, we do not yet know that they will stop here. Bothof you crouch down. I shall watch them. "

So saying, he lay flat down, hiding his head behind the stones whichsurrounded the top like turrets, but without losing sight of thehorsemen. They began now to hear the sound of the horses' feet on theplain. The old hunter saw them stop and converse, but could not hearwhat they were saying. 

"Why this halt, Diaz?" said Don Estevan, impatiently, "we have lost timeenough already. "

"Prudence exacts that we should look about us before proceeding. Theknave may be hidden about here, as we have tracked him up to the rock;he may not be alone, and we have everything to fear from him. "

Don Estevan made a gesture of disdain. 

"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, in a low voice, "I recognise Don Estevan, orrather Don Antonio de Mediana, who is at last in our power. "

"Don Antonio de Mediana! Is it possible? Are you sure?" cried Fabian. 

"It is he, I tell you. "

"Ah! now I see that it was the hand of God which brought me here. Shadeof my mother, rejoice!" cried Fabian. 

Pepe kept silence, but at the name of Don Antonio, hatred shone also inhis glance. He raised his head, and his eye seemed to measure thedistance between him and the object of his vengeance, but even the longrifle of Bois-Rose could scarcely reach them at such a range. 

"Do not rise up, Pepe!" cautioned the Canadian; "you will be seen. "

"Do you observe any others behind?" inquired Fabian. 

"No one; from the point where the river divides to this place I see noliving being; if, " added he, after an instant's pause, "that black massthat I see floating on the river be only the trunk of a tree--but at anyrate it is floating away from us. "

"Never mind that, " said Fabian, "describe to me the man who accompaniesDon Antonio; perhaps I shall recognise him. "

"He is tall and straight as a cane; and what a beautiful horse herides!"

"A bay horse? and has he gold lace on his hat, and a fine face?"

"Precisely. "

"It is Pedro Diaz. Now it would be a cowardice not to show ourselves, when heaven sends us Don Antonio almost alone. "

"Patience, " said Pepe; "I am as interested as you are in not letting himescape, but haste may ruin all. When one has waited for twenty years, one may easily wait a few minutes longer. Are you sure they are alone, Bois-Rose?"

"The sand whirls down there, but it is only the wind that is stirringit. They are alone, and now they stop and look about them. "

So saying, Bois-Rose rose slowly, like the eagle who agitates beforecompletely unfolding his wings--those powerful wings the rapid flight ofwhich will soon bring him down to the plain. 

"Senor Don Estevan, " said Pedro Diaz, "I think we should return to thecamp. "

Don Antonio hesitated a moment. The counsel was good, but it was toolate to follow it. 

From the top of the rock the three hunters watched their every movement. 

"It is time, " said Bois-Rose. 

"I must take Don Antonio alive, " said Fabian. "Arrange that, and I carefor nothing else. "

Bois-Rose now rose to his fall height, and uttered a cry which struck onthe ears of the new-comers. They uttered an exclamation of surprise, which surprise was still further increased at sight of the giganticCanadian upon the rock. 

"Who are you, and what do you want?" cried a voice, which Fabianrecognised as that of Don Antonio. 

"I shall tell you, " replied the hunter; "it will recall to you a truth--never contested either in my country or in the desert--that the groundbelongs to the first occupants; we were here before you, and are thesole masters of this place. We therefore wish one of you to retire witha good grace, and the other to surrender himself, that we may teach hima second law of the desert, `blood for blood. '"

"It is some anchorite whose brain is turned by solitude, " said PedroDiaz; "I shall terminate the conference with a bullet from my rifle. "

"No!" cried Don Estevan, stopping him, "let us see first how far thisfolly will go. And which of us is it, friend, " continued he, with anironical air, "to whom you wish to teach this law?"

"To you, " cried Fabian, rising. 

"What! you here!" cried Don Estevan with mingled rage and surprise. 

Fabian bowed. 

"And here am I, who have been following you for the last fortnight, "said Pepe, "and who thanks God for the opportunity of paying off a debtof twenty years' standing. "

"Who are you?" asked Don Estevan, trying to remember who it was, foryears and difference of costume had altered the aspect of the oldcoast-guardsman. 

"Pepe the Sleeper, who has not forgotten his residence at Ceuta. "

At this name, which explained Fabian's words at the bridge of Salto deAgua, Don Estevan lost his air of contempt. A sudden presentimentseemed to warn him that his fortunes were waning, and he cast around himan anxious glance. The high rocks, which on one side shut in thevalley, might protect him from the fire of his enemies; a short spaceonly separated him from their foot, and prudence counselled him to flythere, but his pride forbade him. 

"Well then!" cried he proudly after a pause, "revenge yourself on anenemy who disdains to fly. "

"Have we not said that we wish to take you alive?" replied Pepe, coldly. 

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. 

THE KING-MAKER A CAPTIVE. 

In the whole course of his adventurous life, Don Estevan had never beenin such danger. The plain offered him no protection against the riflesof his enemies--two at least of whom had an infallible eye and steadyaim--and who had also the advantage of an impregnable position, andturrets of rock behind which to intrench themselves. Don Estevan didnot conceal from himself the extent of his danger; but neither did hiscourage give way. 

"Let us have done with this trifling, " cried the sonorous voice ofBois-Rose, whose generosity made him averse to profit by his advantages, and who scrupled always to shed blood if he could avoid it. "You haveheard that we wish no harm to any but your chief, and you must make upyour mind to let us take him. Retire then willingly, if you do not wishus to treat you as we intend to treat him. "

"Never!" cried Diaz, "shall I commit such a cowardice? You are thefirst comers; so be it; we will yield the ground to you, but Don Estevanmust be allowed to go with me. "

"_We_ refuse, " cried Pepe; "we particularly want the man you call DonEstevan. "

"Do not oppose the justice of God, " added Fabian; "your cause is onlythat of man. We give you five minutes to reflect, after which ourrifles and our good cause shall decide between us. "

"You have but two minutes to decide, " said Bois-Rose; "listen to me andavoid needless bloodshed. "

Mediana kept silence and preserved his haughty air. Unshakable in hisnotions of chivalric honour, Pedro Diaz resolved to die with the chief, whose life he believed to be so precious to his country. He consultedDon Estevan by a look. 

"Return to the camp, " said the latter; "abandon to his fate a manhenceforth useless to your cause, and come back to avenge my death. "

Diaz was not to be moved, but gradually drew his horse close to DonEstevan, and when their knees touched, with his face still turned towardhis enemies, he murmured, with scarcely a movement of his lips:

"Keep steady in your stirrups, have your horse ready, and let me act. "

Don Estevan made signs with his hand as though to demand a truce; but hehad taken a desperate determination. 

"Bend down, Fabian; he is going to fire, " cried Bois-Rose. 

"Before my mother's murderer? Never!" cried Fabian. Quick as thought, the hand of the Canadian giant on his shoulder, forced him down. DonEstevan vainly sought for an aim for his double-barrelled piece. Hecould see nothing but the formidable rifle of Bois-Rose directed towardshim, although in obedience to Fabian's wishes, Bois-Rose would notfinish the combat by striking his foe to the ground. 

With as much courage as agility, Diaz now jumped up behind Don Estevanon his horse, and throwing his arms around him to steady him after theshock, seized the bridle, turned the animal round, and galloped off, covering with his body, as with a buckler, the chief whose life he waswilling to save at the expense of his own. While Fabian and Pepe rusheddown the rock, at the risk of breaking their necks, Bois-Rose followedthe movements of the horse glancing along the barrel of his rifle. 

The two men appeared to make but one body: the back of the horse and theshoulders of Diaz were the only objects at which Bois-Rose could aim;only now and then the head of the animal was visible. To sacrifice Diazwould be a useless murder; and Don Estevan would still escape. A momentmore and the fugitives would be out of range; but the Canadian was ofthat class of marksmen who lodge a ball in the eye of a beaver, that hemay not injure its skin; and it was the horse he wished to aim at. Fora single moment the head of the noble animal showed itself entirely--butthat moment was sufficient; a shot was heard, and the two men and thedeath-stricken horse rolled over together on the ground. 

Bruised by the violence of their fall, both men rose with difficulty;while, their poignards in their teeth, and their rifles in their hands, Fabian and Pepe advanced upon them. Bois-Rose followed with greatgigantic strides, loading his rifle as he went. When he had finished, he again stopped. 

Pedro Diaz, devoted to the last, rushed towards the gun which had fallenfrom Don Estevan's hands, picked it up, and returned it to him. 

"Let us defend ourselves to the last!" cried he, drawing his long knife. 

Don Estevan steadied himself and raised his piece, undecided for amoment whether to aim at Fabian or at Pepe; but Bois-Rose was watching, and a bullet from his rifle broke the weapon of the chief in his hands, just where the barrel joins the stock, and Don Estevan himself, losinghis balance, fell forward on the sand. 

"At last, after twenty years!" cried Pepe, rushing towards him, andplacing his knee upon his breast. 

Don Estevan vainly tried to resist; his arm, benumbed by the violence ofthe blow which had broken his gun, refused its service. In an instantPepe had untied the woollen scarf which was wound several times roundhis body, and bound with it the limbs of his enemy. Diaz could offer noassistance, for he had himself to defend against the attacks of Fabian. 

Fabian scarcely knew the Indian fighter; he had seen him only for a fewhours at the Hacienda del Venado; but the generosity of his conduct hadawakened in the heart of the young man a warm sympathy, and he wished tospare his life. 

"Surrender, Diaz!" cried he, parrying a dagger blow slimed at him; butDiaz resolved not to yield, and for the few minutes during which Pepewas engaged in binding Don Estevan, there was a contest of skill andability between him and Fabian. Too generous to use his rifle against aman who had but a dagger to defend himself with, Fabian tried only todisarm his adversary; but Diaz, blinded by rage, did not perceive thegenerous efforts of the young man, who, holding his rifle by the barrel, and using it as a club, tried to strike the arm which menaced him. ButFabian had to deal with an antagonist not less active and vigorous thanhimself. Bounding from right to left, Diaz avoided his blows, and justas Fabian believed he was about to succeed, he found himself striking inthe air, and the knife menacing him afresh. Bois-Rose without waitingto reload, ran up to put an end to the struggle--in which Fabian'sgenerosity placed him at a disadvantage--and Pepe, having fast bound hisenemy, advanced also. 

Thus menaced by three men, Diaz determined not to die without vengeance. He drew his arm back, and made a rapid thrust at Fabian; but the latterhad been carefully watching the movement, and his rifle met themurdering weapon on its way. The dagger fell to the ground; and Pepe, seizing Diaz round the body just as Fabian struck him, cried, "Fool!must we kill you, then? If not, what shall we do with you?"

"What you have done to that noble gentleman, " replied Diaz, pointing toDon Estevan. 

"Do not ask to share his fate, " said Pepe; "that man's days arenumbered. "

"Whatever his fate is to be, I wish to share it, " cried Diaz, vainlytrying to free himself. "I accept from you neither quarter nor mercy. "

"Do not play with our anger!" said Pepe, whose passions were roused; "Iam not in the habit of offering mercy twice. "

"I know how to make him accept it, " said Fabian, picking up the fallenknife. "Let him go, Pepe; with a man like Diaz, one can always come toterms. "

Fabian's tone was so firm, that Pepe opened his arms and loosened theiron grasp in which the Mexican was bound. 

"Here, Diaz, " said Fabian, "take your weapon, and listen to me. "

So saying, Fabian advanced and offered him his knife without any attemptat guarding himself. Diaz took the weapon, but his adversary had notpresumed too far; at the heroic simplicity of Fabian his anger vanishedon the instant. 

"I listen, " said he, flinging his knife to the ground. 

"I knew it would be so, " replied Fabian, with a smile. "You interposedunknowingly between crime and the just vengeance which pursued it. Doyou know who is the man for whom you wish to expose your life? and whoare those who have spared it? Do you know whether or not we have theright to demand from him, whom you doubtless know only as Don Estevan, aterrible account of the past? Reply honestly to the questions that Ishall put to you, and then decide on which side justice lies. "

Astonished at these words, Diaz listened in silence, and Fabian went on:

"If you had been born in a privileged class, heir to a great fortune; ifa man had taken from you your fortune and your name, and reduced you tothe rank of those who have to work for their daily bread, should you bethe friend of that man?"

"No, I should be his enemy. "

"If that man, to destroy the last souvenir of your birth, had murderedyour mother, what would he deserve from you?"

"Blow for blow--blood for blood. "

"If, after a long and difficult pursuit, fate had at last delivered thespoiler into your hands, what would you do?"

"I should think myself guilty towards God and man if I spared him. "

"Well, then, Diaz, " cried Fabian, "there is a man who has taken from memy name, my fortune, and murdered my mother; I have pursued thismurderer and spoiler--fate has delivered him into my hands, and there helies!"

A cloud passed over the eyes of Diaz at the sight of the chief whosedoom was thus pronounced, for the sentiment of inexorable justice thatGod has implanted in the heart of man told him that Don Estevan meritedhis fate, if Fabian spoke truly. He sighed, but offered no reply. 

While these events were taking place in the midst of the plain, theactors of the scene might have observed Cuchillo raise with precautionthe leaves which covered his head, cast an eager glance on the GoldenValley, and then glide out of the lake. Covered with mud, and hisgarments streaming with water, they might have mistaken him for one ofthe evil spirits whom the Indians believed to dwell in these solitudes. But their attention was completely absorbed by what was taking placeamong themselves. 

CHAPTER FORTY NINE. 

THE TWO MEDIANAS FACE TO FACE. 

Pedro Diaz speedily roused himself from the deep depression andastonishment which had for a moment overpowered him. 

"According to the rules of war, I am your prisoner, " said he, raisinghis head, "and I am anxious to know your decision concerning me. "

"You are free, Diaz, " replied Fabian, "free without conditions. "

"Not so! not so!" said the Canadian, quickly interrupting him. "Wemust, on the contrary, impose a rigorous condition upon your liberty. "

"What is it?" asked the adventurer. 

"You have now, in common with us, " replied Bois-Rose, "become possessedof a secret which we have long since known. I have my reasons forwishing that the knowledge of this secret should expire with those whoseevil destiny makes them acquainted with it. You only, " added theCanadian, "will be an exception to the rule, because a brave man likeyourself should be a slave to his word. I demand, then, beforerestoring you your liberty, a promise upon your honour, never to revealto human being, the existence of the Golden Valley. "

"I never indulged any hope in acquiring this treasure, " replied thenoble adventurer, in a melancholy tone, "beyond that of the freedom andaggrandisement of my country. The sad fate which threatens the man, towhom I looked for the realisation of my hopes, proves to me that in bothcases I have entertained a delusive dream. Even should all the richesof the Golden Valley remain forever buried in these deserts, what wouldit avail me now? I swear then, and you may rely upon my honour, that Ishall never reveal its existence to a living soul. I shall try toforget that I have ever, for an instant, beheld it. "

"It is well, " said Bois-Rose, "you are now free to go. "

"Not yet, with your permission, " replied the prisoner. "In all that hastaken place, there is a mystery which I do not seek to penetrate--but--"

"Carramba! it is very simple, " answered Pepe. "This young man, " saidhe, pointing to Fabian--

"Not yet, Pepe, " replied the latter solemnly, making a sign to thehunter to postpone his explanations. "In the court of justice which isabout to be convened--in the presence of the Supreme Judge (Fabianpointed to heaven), by the accusation as well as the defence, all willbecome clear to Diaz, if he will remain a short while with us. In thedesert, time is precious; and we must prepare ourselves, by meditationand silence, for the terrible deed which we are now compelled toaccomplish. "

"I am most anxious to obtain permission to stay. I do not know if thisman be innocent or guilty; but, I do know that he is the chief whom Ihave freely chosen; and I will remain with him to the last, ready todefend him against you at the cost of my own life, if he is innocent--ready to bow before the sentence which condemns him, if he is guilty. "

"Be it so, " rejoined Fabian. "You shall hear and judge for yourself. "

"This man is of noble birth, " continued Diaz, sadly, "and he lies yonderin the dust, bound like the meanest criminal. "

"Unloose him, Diaz!" replied Fabian, "but do not endeavour to shield himfrom the vengeance which a son must claim for his mother's murderer. Require from him a promise that he will not attempt to escape; we shallrely upon you in this matter. "

"I pledge my honour that he will not do so, " said the adventurer, "norwould I assist him in the attempt. " And Diaz, as he said this, proceeded towards Don Estevan. 

In the mean time Fabian, oppressed by sad and anxious thoughts, seatedhimself at some distance, and appeared to deplore his unfortunatevictory. 

Pepe turned away his head, and for a while stood as if attentivelyobserving the mists as they floated above the crests of the mountains. 

Bois-Rose reclined in his usual attitude of repose, while his eyes, expressive of deep anxiety, were centred upon the young man, and hisnoble physiognomy seemed to reflect the clouds which gathered upon thebrow of his beloved protege. 

Meanwhile Diaz had rejoined the prostrate captive. 

Who can guess how many conflicting thoughts crowded upon the mind of theSpanish nobleman, as he lay upon the ground? His expression retained asmuch pride as when in his more prosperous days he had imagined thepossibility of conquering, and bestowing, a throne upon the deposed heirof the Spanish monarchy. At the sight of Diaz, who, he believed hadabandoned his cause, an expression of deep melancholy came over hiscountenance. 

"Do you come as an enemy, or a friend, Diaz?" said he. "Are you one ofthose who take a secret pleasure in contemplating the humiliation of theman whom, in the days of his prosperity, you, like others, would haveflattered?"

"I am one of those who flatter only the fallen, " replied Diaz, "and whoare not offended by the bitterness of speech which is dictated by greatmisfortune. "

As he uttered these words, which were confirmed by the dejection of hismanner, Diaz hastened to remove the cords with which the captive's armswere bound. 

"I have given my word that you will not endeavour to escape the fate, whatever it may be, which awaits you at the hands of these men, intowhose power we have fallen by an unlucky chance. I believe you have noteven thought of flight. "

"And you are right, Diaz, " replied Don Estevan; "but can you guess whatfate these fellows have reserved for me?"

"They talk of a murder to be avenged, of an accusation, and a judgment. "

"A judgment!" replied Don Antonio with a haughty and bitter smile, "theymay assassinate, but they shall never judge me. "

"In the former case, I shall die with you, " said Diaz, simply, "in thelatter--but of what use is it to speak of that which cannot be? you areinnocent of the crime of which they accuse you?"

"I have a presentiment of the fate which awaits me, " replied Don Estevanwithout answering the adventurer's interrogation. "A faithful subjectwill be lost to his king--Don Carlos the First. But you will carry onmy work? you will restore the prosperity of Sonora. You will return tothe Senator Tragaduros--he knows what he has to do, and you will supporthim?"

"Ah!" cried Diaz, sadly, "such a work cannot be attempted but by you. In your hands I might have proved a powerful instrument; without you Ishall sink into insignificant obscurity. The hope of my country expireswith you. "

During this interval, Fabian and Bois-Rose had quitted the spot wherethe preceding scenes had so rapidly taken place. They had reached thebase of the pyramid. It was there that the solemn assizes were to beheld, in which Fabian and the Duke de Armada were about to act the partsof judge and criminal. 

Pepe made a sign to Diaz; Don Estevan saw and understood it. 

"It is not enough to have remained a prisoner, " said Diaz, "you mustmeet your fate; the conquered must obey the conqueror--come!"

As Diaz ceased speaking, the Spanish nobleman, armed with the pridewhich never deserted him, approached the pyramid with a firm step. Pepehad rejoined his two companions. 

Don Estevan's looks, as he advanced, displayed a dauntless composureequally removed from bravado or weakness--which won a glance ofadmiration from his three enemies--all of them excellent judges ofcourage. 

Fabian rose and stepped forward to meet his noble prisoner. A few pacesbehind, Diaz also advanced--his head bowed low, and his mind oppressedby gloomy thoughts. Everything in the manner of the conquerorsconvinced him that, on this occasion, right would be on the side ofpower. 

"My Lord of Mediana, " said Fabian, as, with head uncovered, he paused afew steps in advance of the noble Spaniard who had approached him, "youperceive that I recognise you, and you also know who I am. "

The Duke de Armada remained upright and motionless without responding tohis nephew's courtesy. 

"I am entitled to keep my head covered in the presence of the King ofSpain; I shall use that privilege with you, " he replied; "also I claimthe right of remaining silent when I think proper, and shall nowexercise that right if it please you. "

Notwithstanding this haughty reply, the younger son of the Medianascould not but remember how he, a trembling and weeping child, had, twenty years before, in the castle of Elanchovi quailed beneath theglance of the man whom he now presumed to judge. 

The timid eaglet had now become the eagle, which, in its turn, held theprey in its powerful talons. 

The glances of the two Medianas crossed like two swords, and Diazcontemplated, with mingled astonishment and respect, the adopted son ofthe gambusino Arellanos, suddenly transformed and raised above thehumble sphere in which he had for an instant known him. 

The adventurer awaited the solution of this enigma. Fabian armedhimself with a pride which equalled that of the Duke de Armada. 

"As you will, " said he, "yet it might be prudent to remember, that herethe right claimed by power is not an empty boast. "

"It is true, " replied Don Antonio, who, notwithstanding his apparentresignation, trembled with rage and despair at the total failure of hishopes. "I ought not to forget that you are doubtless inclined to profitby this right. I shall answer your question then when I tell you that Iam aware of but one fact concerning you, which is that some demon hasinspired you continually to cast some impediment in the way of theobject I pursue--I know--"

Here rage stifled his utterance. 

The impetuous young man listened with a changing countenance to thewords uttered by the assassin of his mother, and whom he even nowsuspected was the murderer of his adopted father. 

Truly it is the heroism of moderation, at which those who do not knowthe slight value attached to human life in the deserts, cannot besufficiently astonished--for here law cannot touch the offender--but theshort space of time which had elapsed since Fabian joined Bois-Rose wassufficient, under the gentle influence of the old hunter, to calm hisfeelings immeasurably. 

He was no longer the young man whose fiery passions were the instrumentsof a vengeance to which he yielded blindly. He had learnt that powershould go hand in hand with justice, and may often be combined withmercy. 

This was the secret of a moderation, hitherto so opposed to histemperament. It was not, however, difficult to trace, in the changingexpression of his countenance, the efforts he had been compelled to maketo impose a restraint upon his anger. 

On his side, the Spanish noble concealed his passion under the mask ofsilence. 

"So then, " resumed Fabian, "you know nothing more of me? You are notacquainted either with my name or rank? I am nothing more to you thanwhat I seem?"

"An assassin, perhaps!" replied Mediana, turning his back to Fabian toshow that he did not wish to reply to his question. 

During the dialogue which had taken place between these two men of thesame blood, and of equally unconquerable nature, the wood-rangers hadremained at some distance. 

"Approach, " said Fabian to the ex-carabinier, "and say, " added he, withforced calmness, "what you know of me to this man whose lips have daredto apply to me a name which he only deserves. "

If any doubt could still have remained upon Don Estevan's mind withregard to the intentions of those into whose hands he had fallen, thatdoubt must have disappeared when he beheld the gloomy air with whichPepe came forward in obedience to Fabian's command. 

The visible exertion he made to repress the rancorous feelings which thesight of the Spanish noble aroused in him, filled the latter with a sadpresentiment. 

A shudder passed through the frame of Don Estevan, but he did not lowerhis eyes, and by the aid of his invincible pride, he waited withapparent calmness until Pepe began to speak. 

"Carramba!" exclaimed the latter in a tone which he tried in vain torender agreeable. "It was certainly worth while to send me to catchsea-fish upon the borders of the Mediterranean, so that, at the end ofmy journey, I might, three thousand leagues from Spain, fall in with thenephew whose mother you murdered. I don't know whether Don Fabian deMediana is inclined to pardon you, but for my part, " added he, strikingthe ground with the butt end of his rifle, "I have sworn that I will notdo so. "

Fabian directed a haughty glance towards Pepe, as though to command hissubmission; then addressing himself to the Spaniard:

"My Lord of Mediana, you are not now in the presence of assassins, butof judges, and Pepe will not forget it. "

"Before judges!" cried Don Antonio; "my peers only possess the right ofjudgment, and I do not recognise as such a malefactor escaped from jailand a beggarly usurper who has assumed a title to which he has no right. I do not acknowledge here any other Mediana than myself, and havetherefore no reply to make. "

"Nevertheless I must constitute myself your judge, " said Fabian, "yetbelieve me I shall be an impartial one, since I take as a witness thatGod whose sun shines upon us, when I swear that I no longer entertainany feelings of animosity or hatred against you. "

There was so much truth in the manner with which Fabian pronounced thesewords, that, for an instant, Don Estevan's countenance lost itsexpression of gloomy defiance, and was even lit up by a ray of hope, forthe Duke de Armada recollected that he stood face to face with the heirfor whom, in his pride, he had once mourned. It was therefore in a lesssevere tone that he asked--

"Of what crime am I then accused?"

"You are about to hear, " replied Fabian. 

CHAPTER FIFTY. 

LYNCH LAW. 

On the frontiers of the America there exists a terrible law, yet it isnot this clause alone which renders it so--"Eye for eye, tooth fortooth, blood for blood. " The application of this law is evident in allthe ways of Providence, to those who observe the course of events herebelow. "He who kills by the sword shall perish by the sword, " says thegospel. 

But the law of the desert is terrible by reason of the majesty withwhich it is invested, or claims to be invested. 

This law is terrible in common with all laws of blood, and the more so, since those who have recourse to it usurp a power which does not belongto them, inasmuch as the injured party constitutes himself judge of hisown cause, and executes the sentence which he himself has pronounced. 

Such is the so-called "Lynch law. "

In the central parts of America, white men as well as Indians executethis law with cruel severity against each other. Civilised communitiesadopt it in a mitigated form as applied to capital punishment, but theuntutored inhabitants of the desert continue to practise it with thesame rigour which belonged to the first ages of mankind. 

And may we not here make the remark, that the similitude of feeling onthis point, between the white man and the savages, casts a stain uponthe former which for his own honour he should endeavour to wipe out?

Society has provided laws for the protection of all men. The man whoamongst us should assume the right of judgment, and take the law intohis own hands, would thus violate it, and fall under the jurisdiction ofthose whom society has appointed to try, and to condemn. 

We are not without a hope that at some future time, as civilisationadvances, men will allow that they who deprive a culprit of that lifewhich none can recall, commit an act of sacrilege in defiance of thosedivine laws which govern the universe and take precedence of all humandecrees. 

A time will come, we would fain believe, when our laws may spare thelife of a guilty man, and suffer him to atone for his errors or hiscrimes by repentance. Such a law would respect the life which can neverbe restored; and while another exists which casts an irretrievable stainupon our honour, there would be a law of restoration capable of raisingthe man sanctified by repentance to the dignity which punishment wouldhave prevented his attaining. 

"There is more joy in heaven, " says the gospel, "over a sinner whorepents, than a righteous man made perfect. " Why then are not humanlaws a counterpart of these divine decrees?

Now, however, liberty is the only boon which society confers upon himwhose misfortunes or whose crimes have deprived him of it. 

Misfortunes did we not say? Is there not in truth a law whichassimilates the criminal with the upright though insolvent debtor, andcompels him to the same fate in prison?

So much for this subject. Let us now return to the lynch law of thedesert. It was before a tribunal without appeal, and in the presence ofself-constituted judges, that Don Antonio de Mediana was about toappear. A court assembled in a city, with all its imposing adjuncts, could not have surpassed in solemnity the assizes which at this momentwere convoked in the desert, where three men represented human justicearmed with all its terrors!

We have described the singular and fantastic aspect presented by thespot, in which this scene was to be enacted. In truth, the sombremountains, veiled in mist, the mysterious subterranean sounds, the longtufts of human hair agitated by every breath of wind, the skeleton ofthe Indian horse exposed to view, all combined to endue the place with astrange unearthly appearance in the eyes of the prisoner, so that healmost believed himself under the influence of some horrible dream. 

One might have imagined himself suddenly transported into the middleages, in the midst of some secret society, where previous to theadmission of the candidate, were displayed all the terrors of the earth, as a means of proving his courage. 

All this however was here a fearful reality. 

Fabian pointed out to the Duke de Armada, one of the flat stones, resembling tombstones, which were strewed over the plain, and seatedhimself upon another so as to form with the Canadian and his companion atriangle, in which he occupied the most prominent position. 

"It is not becoming for the criminal to sit in the presence of thejudges, " said the Spanish noble, with a bitter smile, "I shall thereforeremain standing. "

Fabian made no reply. 

He waited until Diaz, the only disinterested witness in this court ofjustice, had chosen a convenient place. 

The adventurer remained at some distance from the actors in the scene, yet sufficiently near to see and hear all that passed. 

Fabian began:

"You are about to be told, " said he, "of what crime you are accused. You are to look upon me as the judge who presides at your trial, and whowill either condemn or acquit you. "

Having thus spoken he paused to consider. 

"It will first be necessary to establish the identity of the criminal. Are you in truth, " he continued, "that Don Antonio, whom men here callthe Count de Mediana?"

"No, " replied the Spaniard in a firm voice. 

"Who are you then?" continued Fabian, in a mingled tone of astonishmentand regret, for he repudiated the idea that a Mediana would haverecourse to a cowardly subterfuge. 

"I _was_ the Count de Mediana, " replied the prisoner, with a haughtysmile, "until by my sword I acquired other titles. At present I amknown in Spain as the Duke de Armada. It is the name I shall transmitto the descendant of my line, whom I may choose as my adopted son. "

The latter phrase, incidentally spoken by the prisoner, proved in thesequel his sole means of defence. 

"Right, " said Fabian, "the Duke de Armada shall hear of what crime DonAntonio de Mediana is accused. Speak Bois-Rose! tell us what you know, and nothing more. "

The rough and energetic countenance of the gigantic descendant of theNorman race, as he stood motionless beside them, his carbine supportedon his broad shoulder, was expressive of such calm integrity, that hisappearance alone banished all idea of perjury. Bois-Rose drew himselfup, slowly removed his fur cap, and in doing so discovered his fine openbrow to the gaze of all. 

"I will only speak of what I know, " said he. 

"On a foggy night, in the month of November, 1808, I was a sailor onboard a French smuggling-vessel called the Albatros. 

"We had landed according to a plan formed with the captain of thecarabiniers of Elanchovi, on the coast of the Bay of Biscay. I will notrelate to you, " and here Pepe could not repress a smile, "how we werefired upon, and repulsed from the shore where we had landed as friends. It is sufficient for you to know that when we again reached our vessel, I was attracted by the screams of a child, which seemed to come from thedepths of the ocean. 

"These cries proceeded from a boat which had been abandoned. 

"I pushed out towards it at the risk of my own life, since a brisk firewas opened upon our ship. 

"In this boat I found a lady murdered, and lying in her blood. She wasquite dead, and close to her was a little child who appeared to bedying. 

"I picked up the child--that child is now the man before us; his name isFabian. 

"I took the child with me, and left the murdered lady in the boat. I donot know who committed the crime, and have nothing further to say. "

As he finished speaking, Bois-Rose again covered his head, and seatedhimself in silence. 

A mournful silence followed this declaration. 

Fabian lowered his flashing eyes for an instant to the ground, thenraised them, calm and cold, to the face of the ex-carabinier, whose turnhad now come to speak. 

Fabian was prepared to act his terrible part, and the countenance aswell as the attitude of the young man, though clothed in rags, expressedthe nobility which characterised an ancient race, as well as thecollected coolness of a judge. He cast an authoritative glance towardsPepe, and the half savage trapper was compelled to submit to it insilence. 

Pepe at length rose, and advanced a few paces, by his manner showing adetermination only to utter that which his conscience approved. 

"I understand you, Count Mediana, " said he, addressing himself toFabian, who alone in his eyes had the right to assume this title. "Iwill try to forget that the man here present is the same who caused meto spend so many long years among the refuse of mankind at Ceuta. WhenI appear before God He may require of me the words I have spoken, but Ishould again repeat them, nor regret that they had ever been uttered. "

Fabian made a gesture of approbation. 

"One night in the month of November, 1808, " said he, "when I belonged tothe Royal Carabiniers in the service of Spain, I was on duty upon thecoast of Elanchovi, where three men disembarked from the open sea uponthe beach. 

"Our captain had sold to one of them the right of landing in a forbiddenspot. 

"I reproach myself with having been this man's accomplice, and receivingfrom him the price of culpable neglect of my duty. 

"The following day it was discovered that the Countess Mediana and heryoung son had left the castle during the night. 

"The Countess was murdered--the young Count was never seen again. 

"A short time after, his uncle appeared at Elanchovi and claimed hisnephew's fortune and titles. All was given up to him, and I, whobelieved that I had only sold my services to favour an intrigue or anaffair of smuggling, found that I had been the accomplice of a murderer. 

"I upbraided the present Count Mediana before witnesses, and accused himof this crime. Five years' imprisonment at Ceuta was the reward of mypresumption. 

"Here before another and more righteous tribunal, and in the presence ofGod who is my witness, I again accuse the man before me. I declare himto be the murderer of the Countess, and the usurper of her son's titles. He was one of the three men, who, during the night entered by escaladethe chateau which Don Fabian's mother never again beheld. 

"Let the murderer refute the charge. I have done. "

"You hear him?" said Fabian, "what have you to say in your defence?"

A violent struggle between his conscience and his pride took place inMediana's breast. 

Pride however triumphed. 

"Nothing, " replied Don Antonio. 

"Nothing!" answered Fabian, "but you do not perhaps know what a terribleduty I have to fulfil?"

"I can imagine it. "

"And I, " cried Fabian passionately, "shall not flinch in accomplishingit. Yet, though my mother's blood cries out for vengeance, should yourefute the charge, I would bless you still. Swear to me then, in thename of Mediana, which we bear in common, by your honour and thesalvation of your soul, that you are innocent, and I shall be too happyto believe you. "

Then, oppressed with an intolerable anguish, Fabian awaited his reply. 

But, gloomy and inflexible as the fallen archangel, Mediana was silent. 

At this moment Diaz advanced towards the judges and the prisoner. 

"I have listened, " said he, "with the utmost attention to youraccusation again Don Estevan de Arechiza, whom I also know to be theDuke de Armada; may I express my thoughts freely?"

"Speak!" said Fabian. 

"One point seems to me doubtful. I do not know whether the crime youattribute to this noble cavalier was committed by him; but, admittingthat to be the case, have you any right to condemn him? In accordancewith the laws of our frontier, where no court may be held, it is onlythe nearest relatives of the victim who are entitled to claim the bloodof the murderer. 

"Don Tiburcio's youth was passed in this country. I knew him as theadopted son of Marcos Arellanos. 

"Who can prove that Tiburcio Arellanos is the son of the murdered lady?

"How, after so many years, can it be possible for this hunter, formerlya sailor, to recognise in the midst of these solitudes, the young man, whom as a child he beheld only for an instant on a foggy night?"

"Answer, Bois-Rose, " said Fabian, coldly. 

The Canadian again rose. 

"I ought, in the first place, to state, " said the old hunter, "that itwas not only for a few moments on a foggy night that I saw the child inquestion. During the space of two years, after having saved him fromcertain death, I kept him on board the vessel in which I was a sailor. 

"The features of his son could not be more deeply impressed upon thememory of a father than those of that child were on mine. 

"How then can you affirm that it is impossible I should recognise him?

"When you are travelling in the desert, where there is no beaten track, are you not guided by the course of streams, by the character of thetrees, by the conformation of their trunks, by the growth of the mosswhich clothes them, and by the stars of heaven? and when at anotherseason, or even twenty years afterwards, should the rains have swelledthe streams, or the sun have dried them up, should the once naked treesbe clothed with leaves, should their trunks have expanded, and mosscovered their roots, even should the north star have changed itsposition in the heavens, and you again beheld it, would you notrecognise both star and stream?"

"Doubtless, " replied Diaz, "the man who has experience in the desert, isseldom deceived. "

"When you meet a stranger in the forest, who answers you with the cry ofa bird or the voice of an animal, which is to serve as a rallying signalto you or your friends, do you not immediately say, `This man is one ofus'?"

"Assuredly. "

"Well, then; I recognise the child in the grown man, just as yourecognise the small shrub in the tall tree; or the stream that oncemurmured softly in the roaring and swollen torrent of to-day. I knowthis child again by a mode of speech, which twenty years have scarcelyaltered. "

"Is not this meeting a somewhat strange coincidence?" interrupted Diaz, now almost convinced of the Canadian's veracity. 

"God, " cried Bois-Rose, solemnly, "who commands the breeze to waftacross the desert the fertilising seeds of the male palm to the femaledate-tree--God, who confides to the wind which destroys, to thedevastating torrent, or to the bird of passage, the grain which is to bedeposited a thousand miles from the plant that produced it--is he notalso able to send upon the same path two human beings made in hisimage?"

Diaz was silent a moment; then having nothing more to advance incontradiction to the Canadian's truthful words whose honest manner ofspeech carried with it an irresistible conviction, he turned towardsPepe:

"Did you, " said he, "also recognise in Arellanos' adopted child, theCountess de Mediana's son!"

"It would be impossible for any one who ever saw his mother long tomistake him. Enough! let the Duke de Armada contradict me. "

Don Antonio, too proud to utter a falsehood, could not deny the truthwithout degrading himself in the eyes of his accusers, unless hedestroyed the only means of defence to which his pride and the secretwish of his heart allowed him to have recourse. 

"It is true, " said he, "that this man is of my own blood. I cannot denyit without polluting my lips with a lie, and an untruth is the offspringof cowardice. "

Diaz inclined his head, regained his seat, and was silent. 

"You have heard, " said Fabian, "that I am indeed the son of the woman, whom this man murdered; therefore I claim the right of avenging her. What then do the laws of the desert decree?"

"Eye for eye, " said Bois-Rose. 

"Tooth for tooth, " added Pepe. 

"Blood for blood, " continued Fabian; "a death for a death!"

Then he rose, and addressing Don Antonio in measured accents, said: "Youhave shed blood and committed murder. It shall therefore be done to youas you have done to others. God commanded it to be so. "

Fabian drew his poignard from its sheath. The sun was shedding hisfirst rays upon the scene, and every object cast a long shadow upon theground. 

A bright flash shot from the naked blade which the younger Mediana heldin his hand. 

Fabian buried its point in the sand. 

The shadow of the poignard far exceeded its length. 

"The sun, " he said, "shall determine how many moments you have to live. When the shadow disappears you shall appear before God, and my motherwill be avenged. "

A deathlike silence succeeded Fabian's last words, who, overcome withlong suppressed emotions, fell, rather than seated himself upon thestone. 

Bois-Rose and Pepe both retained their seats. The judges and thecriminal were alike motionless. 

Diaz perceived that all was over, but he did not wish, to take any partin the execution of the sentence. 

He approached the Duke de Armada, knelt down before him, took his handand raised it to his lips. 

"I will pray for the salvation of your soul, " said he in a low tone. "Do you release me from my oath?"

"Yes, " replied Don Antonio, in a firm voice; "go, and may God bless youfor your fidelity!"

The noble adventurer retired in silence. 

His horse had remained at some short distance. 

Diaz soon reached it, and holding the bridle in his hands, walked slowlytowards the spot where the river forked. 

In the mean time the sun followed its eternal course--the shadowsgradually contracted--the black vultures flew in circles above the headsof the four actors in the terrible drama the last scene of which was nowdrawing near. From the depths of the Misty Mountains, shrouded invapour, might be heard, at intervals, dull rumbling sounds, likethunder, followed by distant explosions. 

Pale, but resigned, the unfortunate Count de Mediana remained standing. Buried in deep reverie, he did not appear to notice the continuallydecreasing shadow. 

All exterior objects vanished from his sight. His thoughts were dividedbetween the past which no longer concerned him, and the future he wasabout to enter. 

However, pride still struggled within him, and he maintained anobstinate silence. 

"My Lord Count, " said Fabian, who was willing to try a last chance, "infive minutes the poignard will have ceased to cast a shadow. "

"I have nothing to say of the past, " replied Don Antonio. "I must nowthink only of the future of my race. Do not, therefore, misjudge thesense of the words I am about to speak. Whatever may be the form inwhich it may come, death has no power to terrify me. "

"I am listening, " said Fabian gently. 

"You are very young, Fabian, " continued Mediana, "and the thought of theblood that has been shed will therefore be so much the longer a burthento you. "

Fabian's countenance revealed the anguish of his feelings. 

"Why then so soon pollute a life which is scarcely begun? Why refuse tofollow a course which the unlooked-for favour of Providence opens toyou? Here you are poor, and without connections. God restores you toyour family, and, at the same moment, confers wealth upon you. Theinheritance of your race has not been squandered by me. I have fortwenty years borne the name of Mediana, at the head of the Spanishnobles, and I am ready to restore it to you with all the honours I haveconferred upon it. Accept then a fortune which I joyfully restore toyou, for the isolation of my life is burthensome to me; but do notpurchase it by a crime, for which an imaginary act of justice cannotabsolve you, and which you will repent to your last hour. "

Fabian replied, "A judge who presides at his tribunal must not listen tothe voice of nature. Supported by his conscience, and the service herenders to society, he may pity the criminal, though his duty requiresthat he shall condemn him. In this solitude, these two men and myselfrepresent human justice. Refute the crime attributed to you, DonAntonio, and I shall be the happiest of us two; for though I shudder toaccuse you, I cannot escape the fatal mission which heaven has imposedupon me. "

"Consider well, Fabian, and remember that it not pardon, but oblivion, for which I sue. Thanks to that oblivion, it rests with you to become, in my adopted son, the princely heir of the house of Mediana. After mydeath my title will expire. "

As he listened to these words the young man became deadly pale; butspurning in his heart the temptation held out to him, Fabian closed hisears to that voice which offered him so large a share of the riches ofthis world, as though he had but heard the light whispers of the breezeamid the foliage of the trees. 

"Oh, Count Mediana, why did you kill my mother?" cried Fabian, coveringhis face with his hands; then, glancing towards the poignard planted inthe sand, "My lord of Armada, " he added, solemnly, "the poignard iswithout a shadow!"

Don Antonio trembled in spite of himself, as he then recalled theprophetic threat, which twenty years before the Countess de Mediana hadcompelled him to hear. 

"Perhaps, " she had said, "the God whom you blaspheme will ordain, thatin the heart of a desert, untrodden by the foot of man, you shall findan accuser, a witness, a judge, and an executioner. "

Accuser, witness, and judge were all before him, but who was to be theexecutioner? However, nothing was wanting for the accomplishment of thedreadful prophecy. 

A noise of branches, suddenly torn apart, was heard at this moment. 

The moment after, a man emerged from the brushwood, his habilimentsdripping with water and soiled with mud. It was Cuchillo. 

The bandit advanced with an air of imperturbable coolness, though heappeared to limp slightly. 

Not one of the four men, so deeply absorbed in their own terriblereflections, showed any astonishment at his presence. 

"Carramba! you expected me then?" he cried; "and yet I persisted inprolonging the most disagreeable bath I have ever taken, for fear ofcausing you all a surprise, for which my self-love might have suffered, "(Cuchillo did not allude to his excursion in the mountains); "but thewater of this lake is so icy that rather than perish with cold, I wouldhave run a greater risk than meeting with old friends. "

"Added to this I felt a wound in my leg reopen. It was received sometime since, in fact, long ago, in my youth. 

"Senor Don Estevan, Don Tiburcio, I am your very humble servant. "

A profound silence succeeded these words. Cuchillo began to feel thathe was acting the part of the hare, who takes refuge in the teeth of thehounds; but he endeavoured by a great show of assurance to make the bestof a position which was more than precarious. 

The old hunter alone glanced towards Fabian, as though to ask whatmotive this man, with his impudent and sinister manner, and his beardcovered with greenish mud, could offer for thus intruding himself uponthem. 

"It is Cuchillo, " said Fabian, answering Bois-Rose's look. 

"Cuchillo, your unworthy servant, " continued the bandit, "who has been awitness to your prowess, most worthy hunter of tigers. Decidedly, "thought Cuchillo, "my presence, is not so obnoxious to them as I shouldhave supposed. "

Then feeling his assurance redoubled at the reception he had met with, which though cold and silent as that with which every new-comer isreceived in the house of death, still gave him courage to say, observingthe severe expression on every face:

"Pardon me, gentlemen! I observe you have business in hand, and I amperhaps intruding; I will retire. There are moments when one does notlike to be disturbed: I know it by experience. "

Saying these words, Cuchillo showed his intention of crossing a secondtime the green inclosure of the valley of gold, when Bois-Rose's roughvoice arrested him. 

"Stay here, as you value the salvation of your soul, master Cuchillo, "said the hunter. 

"The giant may have heard of my intellectual resources, " thoughtCuchillo. "They have need of me. After all, I would rather go shareswith them than get nothing; but without doubt this Golden Valley isbewitched. You allow, master hunter, " he continued, addressing theCanadian, and feigning a surprise he did not feel at the aspect of hischief, "I have a--"

An imperious gesture from Fabian cut short Cuchillo's demand. 

"Silence!" he said, "do not distract the last thought of a Christian whois about to die. "

We have said that a poignard planted in the ground no longer cast ashadow. 

"My lord of Mediana, " added Fabian, "I ask you once again, by the namewe bear, by your honour, and the salvation of your soul, are youinnocent of my mother's murder?"

To this lofty interrogation, Don Antonio replied without relaxing hishaughty demeanour--

"I have nothing to say, to my peers alone I allow the right of judgment. Let my fate and yours be accomplished. "

"God sees and hears me, " said Fabian. Then taking Cuchillo aside: "Asolemn sentence has been passed upon this man, " said he to him. "We, asthe instruments of human justice in this desert, command you to be hisexecutioner. The treasures contained in this valley will remunerate youfor undertaking this terrible duty. May you never commit a moreiniquitous act!"

"One cannot live through forty years without having a few littlepeccadilloes on one's conscience, Don Tiburcio. However, I shall notthe less object to being an executioner; and I am proud to know that mytalents are estimated at their real value. You promise, then, that allthe gold of this valley shall be mine?"

"All--without excepting the smallest particle. "

"Carramba! notwithstanding my well-known scruples, it is a good price, therefore I shall not hesitate; and if at the same time there is anyother little favour you require of me, do not distress yourself--itshall be done cheaply. "

That which has been previously said explains Cuchillo's unexpectedappearance. 

The outlaw, concealed upon the borders of the neighbouring lake, hadescaped through the prologue which preceded the fearful drama in whichhe was about to perform a part. Taking all things into consideration, he saw that matters were turning out better than he had expected. 

However he could not disguise from himself the fact that there was acertain amount of danger in his becoming the executioner of a man whowas aware of all his crimes, and who could, by a single word, surrenderhim him to the implacable justice enforced in these solitudes. 

He was aware that to gain the promised recompense, and to prevent DonAntonio from speaking, it would be necessary first to deceive him, andhe found means to whisper in the ear of the prisoner--

"Fear nothing--I am on your side. "

The spectators of this terrible scene maintained a profound silence, under a feeling of awe experienced by each of them. 

A deep dejection of spirit had, in Don Fabian's case, succeeded theenergetic exercise of his will, and his face, bowed towards the earth, was as pale and as livid as that of the man upon whom he had pronouncedsentence of death. 

Bois-Rose--whom the frequent dangers which belonged to the life of asailor and a hunter, had rendered callous to the physical horror withwhich one man looks upon the destruction of his fellow--appearedcompletely absorbed in the contemplations of this young man, whom heloved as a son, and whose dejected attitude showed the depth of hisgrief. 

Pepe, on his side, endeavoured to conceal under an impenetrable mask thetumultuous feeling resulting from his now satisfied vengeance. He, aswell as his two companions, remained silent. 

Cuchillo alone--whose sanguinary and vindictive nature would have ledhim to accept gratuitously the odious office of executor--could scarcelyconceal his delight at the thoughts of the enormous sum he was toreceive for the wicked service. 

But in this case, for once in his life, Cuchillo was to assist in anapparently legal proceeding. 

"Carramba!" he ejaculated, taking Pepe's carbine from him, and at thesame time making a sign to Don Antonio; "this is an affair for whicheven the judge of Arispe himself would be sorry to grant me absolution. "

He advanced towards Don Antonio. 

Pale, but with flashing eyes; uncertain whether in Cuchillo he beheld asaviour or an executioner, Don Estevan did not stir. 

"It was foretold that I should die in a desert; I am, what you arepleased to call, convicted and condemned. God has reserved forme theinfinite disgrace of dying by the hand of this man. I forgive you, Fabian; but may not this bandit prove as fatal to your life, as he willbe to that of your father's brother, as he was--"

A cry from Cuchillo--a cry of alarm, here interrupted the Duke deArmada. 

"To arms! To arms! yonder come the Indians!" cried he. 

Fabian, Bois-Rose, and Pepe rushed to seize their rifles. 

Cuchillo took advantage of this short instant, and sprang towards DonAntonio. The latter with his neck stretched forward, was also examiningthe wide extent of the plain, when Cuchillo twice plunged the poignardinto his throat. 

The unfortunate Mediana fell to the ground, vomiting forth torrents ofblood. 

A smile relaxed Cuchillo's lips: Don Antonio had carried out of theworld the secret which he dreaded. 

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. 

THE JUDGMENT OF GOD. 

An instant of stupor succeeded to the murder so suddenly accomplished. Don Antonio did not stir; Fabian seemed to forget that the bandit hadonly hastened the execution of the sentence which he himself hadpronounced. 

"Wretch!" cried he, rushing towards Cuchillo, with the barrel of hiscarbine in his hand, as though he did not deign to raise its buttagainst the executioner. 

"There, there!" said Cuchillo, drawing back, whilst Pepe, more ready toacquit Don Antonio's murderer, interposed between them; "you are asquick and passionate as a fighting-cock, and ready every instant tosport your horns, like a young bull. The Indians are too busy elsewhereto trouble themselves about us. It was a stratagem of war, to enable memore speedily to render you the signal service required of me. Do nottherefore be ungrateful; for, why not admit it? you were just now anephew, most unsufferably encumbered with an uncle; you are noble, youare generous; you would have regretted all your life that you had notpardoned that uncle? By cutting the matter short for you, I have takenthe remorse upon myself; and so the affair is ended. "

"The rascal knows what he is about, undoubtedly, " remarked theex-carabinier. 

"Yes, " replied Cuchillo, evidently flattered, "I pride myself upon beingno fool, and upon having some notion of the scruples of conscience. Ihave taken your doubts upon mine. When I take a fancy to people, Isacrifice myself for them. It is a fault of mine. When I saw, DonTiburcio, that you had so generously pardoned me the blow--the scratch Iinflicted upon you--I did my best to deserve it: the rest must besettled between me and my conscience. "

"Ah!" sighed Fabian, "I hoped yet to have been able to pardon _him_. "

"Why trouble yourself about it?" said the ex-carabinier. "Pardon yourmother's murderer, Don Fabian! it would have been cowardice! To kill aman who cannot defend himself, is, I grant, almost a crime, even afterfive years' imprisonment. Our friend Cuchillo has saved us theembarrassment of choosing: that is his affair. What do you say, Bois-Rose?"

"With proofs such as those we possess, the tribunal of a city would havecondemned the assassin to atone for his crime; and Indian justice couldnot have done less. It was God's will that you should be spared thenecessity of shedding the blood of a white man. I say as you do, Pepe, it is Cuchillo's affair. "

Fabian inclined his head, without speaking, in acquiescence to the oldhunter's verdict--as though in his own heart he could not determine, amidst such conflicting thoughts, whether he ought to rejoice, or togrieve over this unexpected catastrophe. 

Nevertheless, a shade of bitter regret overspread his countenance; butaccustomed, as well as his two companions, to scenes of blood, heassented, though with a sigh, to their inexorable logic. 

In the mean time, Cuchillo had regained all his audacity, things wereturning out well for him. 

He cast a glance of satisfied hatred upon the corpse of him who couldnever more speak, and muttered in a low voice:

"Why trouble one's self about human destiny?--for twenty years past, mylife has depended upon nothing more than the absence of a tree. "

Then addressing himself to Fabian:

"It is, then, agreed, that I have rendered you a great service. Ah!Don Tiburcio, you must resolve to remain in my debt. I think generouslyof furnishing you with the means of discharging it. There is immensewealth yonder; therefore it would not do for you to recall a promisegiven to him who, for your sake, was not afraid--for the first time, letme tell you--to come to an open rupture with his conscience. "

Cuchillo, who, notwithstanding the promise Fabian had made--to satisfyhis cupidity by the possession of the gold, --knew that to make apromise, and to keep one, are two different things. He waited the replywith anxiety. 

"It is true; the price of blood is yours, " said Fabian to the bandit. 

Cuchillo assumed an indignant air. 

"Well, you will be magnificently recompensed, " continued the young man, contemptuously; "but it shall never be said that I shared it with you:--the gold of this place is yours. "

"All?" cried Cuchillo, who could not believe his ears. 

"Have I not said so?"

"You are mad!" exclaimed Pepe and Bois-Rose, simultaneously, "the fellowwould have killed him for nothing!"

"You are a god!" cried Cuchillo; "and you estimate my scruples at theirreal value. What! all this gold?"

"All, including the smallest particle, " answered Fabian, solemnly: "Ishall have nothing in common with you--not even this gold. "

And he made a sign to Cuchillo to leave the ground. 

The bandit, instead of passing through the hedge of cotton-trees, tookthe road to the Misty Mountains, towards the spot where his horse wasfastened. 

A few minutes afterwards he returned with his serape in his hand. Hedrew aside the interlacing branches which shut in the valley, and soondisappeared from Fabian's sight. The sun, in the midst of his course, poured down a flood of light, causing the gold spread over the surfaceof the valley to shoot forth innumerable rays. 

A shudder passed though Cuchillo's veins, as he once more beheld it. 

His heart beat quick at the sight of this mass of wealth. He resembledthe tiger which falling upon a sheepfold cannot determine which victimto choose. He encompassed with a haggard glance the treasures spread athis feet; and little was wanting to induce him, in his transports ofjoy, to roll himself in these floods of gold. 

Soon, however, restored to calmer thoughts, he spread his mantle on thesand; and as he saw the impossibility of carrying away all the richesexposed to his view, he cast around him a glance of observation. 

In the meantime, Diaz, seated at some distance on the plain, had notlost a single detail of this melancholy scene. 

He had seen Cuchillo suddenly appear, he had imagined the part he wouldbe required to fulfil, he heard the bandit's cry of false alarm, andeven the bloody catastrophe of the drama had not been unseen by him. 

Until then he had remained motionless in his place, mourning over thedeath of his chief, and the hopes which that death had destroyed. 

Cuchillo had disappeared from their sight, when the three hunters sawDiaz rise and approach them. 

He advanced with slow steps, like the justice of God, whose instrumenthe was about to become. 

His arm was passed through his horse's bridle; and his face, clouded bygrief, was turned downwards. 

The adventurer cast a look full of sadness upon the Duke de Armada lyingin his blood; death had not effaced from that countenance its look ofunalterable pride. 

"I do not blame you, " said he; "in your place I should have done thesame thing. How much Indian blood have I also not spilt to satisfy myvengeance!"

"It is holy bread, " interrupted Bois-Rose, passing his hand through histhick grey hair, and directing a sympathetic glance toward theadventurer. "Pepe and I can say that, for our part--"

"I do not blame you, friends, but I grieve because I have seen this man, of such noble courage, fall almost before my eyes; a man who held in hishand the destiny of Sonora. I grieve that the glory of my countryexpires with him. "

"He was, as you say, a man of noble courage, but with a heart of stone. May God save his soul!"

A convulsive grief agitated Don Fabian's breast. Diaz continued theDuke de Armada's funeral oration. 

"He and I had dreamed of the freedom of a noble province and days ofsplendour. Neither he, nor I, nor others, will ever now behold themshine. Ah! why was not I killed instead of him? No one would haveknown that I had ceased, to exist, and one champion less would not havecompromised the cause we served; but the death of our chief ruins itforever. The treasure which is said to be accumulated here might haveaided us in restoring Sonora; for you do not, perhaps, know that near tothis spot--"

"We know it, " interrupted Fabian. 

"Well, " continued Diaz, "I will think no more about this immensetreasure. I have always preferred the life of an Indian, killed by myown hands, to a sack of gold dust. "

This common feeling of hatred towards the Indians still further added tothe sympathy which Bois-Rose had felt for the disinterestedness andcourage shown by Diaz. 

"We have failed at the onset, " continued Diaz, in a tone of greatbitterness, "and all this through the fault of a traitor whom I wish todeliver up to your justice--not because he deceived us, but because hehas destroyed the instrument which God was willing to grant, in order tomake my country a powerful kingdom. "

"What do you say?" cried Fabian; "is it Cuchillo of whom you speak?"

"The traitor who twice attempted your life--the first time at theHacienda del Venado, the second in the neighbouring forest--is the onewho conducted us to this valley of gold. "

"It was then Cuchillo who told you the secret. I was almost sure ofit--but are you also certain?"

"As certain as I am that I shall one day appear before God. Poor DonEstevan related to me how the existence and position of the treasurebecame known to Cuchillo; it was in assassinating his associate who hadfirst discovered it. 

"And now if you decide that this man who has twice attempted your lifedeserves exemplary punishment, you have only to determine upon it. "

As he finished these words, Pedro Diaz tightened his horse's girths, andprepared to depart. 

"One word more!" cried Fabian, "has Cuchillo long possessed this greyhorse, which, as you may be aware, has a habit of stumbling?"

"More than two years, from what I have heard. "

This last scene had escaped the bandit's observation, the thicket ofcotton-trees concealing it from his sight; besides, he was too muchabsorbed in the contemplation of his treasures to turn his eyes awayfrom them. 

Seated upon the sand, he was crouched down amidst the innumerable piecesof gold which surrounded him, and he had already begun to pile up uponhis serape all those he had chosen, when Diaz finished his terriblerevelation. 

"Ah! it is a fearful and fatal day, " said Fabian, in whose mind thelatter part of this revelation left no room for doubt. "What ought I dowith this man? You, who both know what he has done with my adoptedfather, Pepe--Bois-Rose--advise me, for my strength and resolution arecoming to an end. I have experienced too many emotions for one day. "

"Does the vile wretch, who cut your father's throat, deserve moreconsideration than the noble gentleman, who murdered your mother, myson?" answered the Canadian, resolutely. 

"Whether it be your adopted father or any others who have been hisvictims, this brigand is worthy of death, " added Diaz, as he mountedupon his saddle, "and I abandon him to your justice. "

"It is with regret that I see you depart, " said Bois-Rose to theadventurer, "a man who like yourself is a bitter enemy to the Indians, would have been a companion whose society I should have appreciated. "

"My duty recalls me to the camp, which I quitted under the influence ofDon Estevan's unhappy star, " replied the adventurer, "but there are twothings I shall never forget; they are, the conduct of generous enemies;and the oath I have taken never to reveal to a living creature theexistence of this Golden Valley. "

As he finished these words, the loyal Diaz quickly withdrew, reflectingupon the means of reconciling his respect for his word, with the careand safety of the expedition entrusted to him by its leader, previous tohis death. 

The three friends speedily lost sight of him. 

The sun shone out, and, glancing down from the Golden Valley, discoveredCuchillo, greedily bending over his treasures, and the three huntersholding council amongst themselves respecting him. 

Fabian had listened in silence to Bois-Rose's advice, as well as thatgiven by Diaz previous to his departure; and he only waited the counselof the old carabinier. 

"You have taken, " said the latter, in his turn, "a vow, from whichnothing ought to release you; the wife of Arellanos received it from youon her death-bed; you have her husband's murderer in your power; thereis nothing here to deny it. "

Then, observing a look of anxious indecision in Fabian's countenance, headded, with that bitter irony which formed a part of his character; "Butafter all, if this duty is so repugnant to you, I shall undertake it;for not having the least ill will against Cuchillo, I can bang himwithout a scruple. You will see, Fabian, that the knave will nottestify any surprise at what I am going to tell him. Fellows who havesuch a face as Cuchillo's expect to be hung every day. "

As he concluded this judicious reflection, Pepe approached the greenhedge, which separated them from the outlaw. 

The latter, unconscious of all that had taken place around him--dazzled, blinded, by the golden rays, which reflected the sun's light over thesurface of the valley--had heard and seen nothing. 

With fingers doubled up, he was busied rummaging amongst the sand withthe eagerness of a famished jackal disinterring a corpse. 

"Master Cuchillo! a word, if you please, " cried Pepe, drawing aside thebranches of the cotton shrubs; "Master Cuchillo!"

But Cuchillo did not hear. 

It was only when he had been called three times that he turned around, and discovered his excited countenance to the carabinier--after having, by a spontaneous movement of suspicion, thrown a corner of his mantleover the gold he had collected. 

"Master Cuchillo, " resumed Pepe, "I heard you a little while ago giveutterance to a philosophical maxim, which gave me the highest opinion ofyour character. "

"Come!" said Cuchillo to himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "here is someone else who requires my services. These gentry arebecoming imprudent, but, por Dios! they pay handsomely. "

Then aloud:

"A philosophical maxim?" said he, throwing away disdainfully, a handfulof sand, the contents of which would elsewhere have rejoiced agold-seeker. "What is it? I utter many, and of the best kind;philosophy is my strong point. "

Pepe, on one side of the hedge, resting upon his rifle, in a superbattitude of nonchalance, and the most imperturbable _sangfroid_, andCuchillo, on the other side, with his head stretched across the greeninclosure of the little valley, looked very much like two countryneighbours, for the moment chatting familiarly together. 

No one, on seeing them thus, would have suspected the terriblecatastrophe which was to follow this pacific intercourse. Thecountenance of the ex-carabinier, only exhibited a gracious smile. 

"You spoke truth, " replied Pepe. "What signifies human destiny; fortwenty years past you say you have owed your life to the absence of atree?"

"It is true, " affirmed Cuchillo, in an absent tone, "for a long time Ipreferred shrubs, but lately I have become reconciled to large trees. "

"Indeed!"

"And yet it is still one of my favourite maxims, that a wise man mustpass over many little inconveniences. "

"True. And now I think of it, " added Pepe, carelessly, "there are onthe summit of yonder steep hill, two magnificent pine trees whichproject over the abyss, and which, twenty years ago, might have causedyou very serious anxiety. "

"I do not deny it; but at present I am as easy about it as if they wereonly cactus plants. "

"Indeed!"

"Indeed!" repeated Cuchillo, with some impatience. "So then, you did methe honour to speak of me, and to what purpose?"

"Oh! a simple remark. My two companions and myself had some reasons forsuspecting that amongst these mountains a certain valley of gold was tobe found; but nevertheless, it was only after long seeking that we foundit. You also know it now, and even better than ourselves, sinceunhesitatingly, and without losing an instant, you have appropriated toyourself, between what you call a heap and what you have alreadycollected, carramba--enough to build a church to your patron saint. "

Cuchillo, at the recollection of the imprudence he had been guilty of, and at this indirect attack, felt his legs give way under him. 

"It is certainly my intention not to employ this gold to any otherpurpose than a godly one, " said he, concealing his anguish as well as hecould. "As to the knowledge of this wonderful valley, it is to--it isto chance that I owe it. "

"Chance always comes to the assistance of virtue, " replied Pepe, coldly. "Well, in your place, I should not, nevertheless, be without anxietytouching the vicinity of those two pine trees. "

"What do you mean?" cried Cuchillo, turning pale. 

"Nothing--unless this may prove to you one of those triflinginconveniences, about which you just now said a man should not troublehimself. Por Dios! you have enough booty to render a king jealous. "

"But I acquired this gold legitimately--I committed no murder to obtainit. What I did was not worthless. The devil! I am not in the habit ofkilling for nothing, " cried Cuchillo, exasperated, and who, mistakingthe carabinier's intentions, saw only in his alarming innuendoes regretat his defrauded cupidity. 

Like the sailor, who, overtaken by a storm, throws a part of his cargooverboard to save the rest, Cuchillo resolved with a sigh, to shun, bymeans of a sacrifice, the danger with which he was threatened. 

"I again repeat to you, " said he, in a low voice, "chance alone gave mea knowledge of this treasure; but I don't wish to be selfish. It is myintention to give you a share. Listen, " he continued, "there is in acertain place, a block of gold of inestimable value; honest fellowsshould understand one another, and this block shall be yours. Ah! yourshare will be better than mine. "

"I hope so, " said Pepe; "and in what place have you reserved me myportion?"

"Up yonder!" said Cuchillo, indicating the summit of the pyramid. 

"Up yonder, near the pine trees? Ah, master Cuchillo, how glad I am tofind that you have not taken my foolish little joke amiss, and thatthese trees do not affect you any more than if they were cactus plants!Between ourselves, Don Tiburcio, whom you perceive to be deeplyabsorbed, is only regretting in reality the enormous sum he has givenyou, for a service which he could equally well have performed himself. "

"An enormous sum! it was but a very fair price, and at any rate I shouldhave lost it, " cried Cuchillo, recovering all his habitual impudence ofmanner, on seeing the change that had taken place in the conduct andtone of the ex-carabinier. 

"Agreed, " continued the latter; "but in truth, he may have repented ofthe bargain; and I must avow that if he commanded me to blow your brainsout, in order to get rid of you, I should be compelled to obey him. Allow me, then, to call him here so as to restore his confidence; or, better still, come and show me the portion, which your munificencedestines for me. Afterwards we each go our own way; and notwithstandingall you have said about it, the share assigned to you will surpass allyour expectations. "

"Let us set off then, " resumed Cuchillo, happy to see a negotiation--theprobable result of which began to cause him serious uneasiness--terminate so satisfactorily for him and, casting a glance of passionatetenderness upon a heap of gold which he had piled up upon his wrapper, he set off towards the summit of the pyramid. He had scarcely reachedit, when, upon Pepe's invitation, Fabian and Bois-Rose began to ascendthe steep on the other side. 

"No one can escape his fate, " said Pepe to Fabian, "and I had alreadyproved to you that the rascal would testify no astonishment. Be that asit may remember that you have sworn to avenge the death of your adoptedfather, and that in these deserts you ought to shame the justice ofcities, where such crimes go unpunished. To show mercy towards such aknave is an outrage to society! Bois-Rose! I shall need the assistanceof your arm. "

The Canadian hunter, by a glance, interrogated him, for whom his blinddevotion knew no bounds. 

"Marcos Arellanos craved pardon and did not obtain it, " said Fabian, nolonger undecided, "and as this man did to others, so let it be done tohim. "

And these three inexorable men seated themselves solemnly upon thesummit of the pyramid, where Cuchillo already awaited them. At sight ofthe severe aspect of those whom he had inwardly so many reasons todread, Cuchillo felt all his apprehensions renewed. He endeavoured, however, to recover his assurance. 

"Do you see, " said he, pointing out behind the sheet of water, whosemajestic torrent foamed beside them, "the spot where the block of goldsheds forth its dazzling rays?"

But the eyes of his judges did not turn in the direction he indicated. Fabian rose slowly; his look caused the blood to curdle in the veins ofthe outlaw. 

"Cuchillo!" said he, "you saved me from dying of thirst, and you havenot done this for one who is ungrateful. I have forgiven you the stabwith which you wounded me at the Hacienda del Venado. I have pardonedanother attempt you made near El Salto de Agua; also the shot which youonly could have fired upon us from the summit of this pyramid. I might, in short, have forgiven every attempt you have made to take away a lifeyou once saved; and with having pardoned you, I have even recompensedyou, as a king does not recompense the executioner of his justice. "

"I do not deny it; but this worthy hunter, who has informed me with agreat deal of circumspection upon the delicate subject you wish to touchupon, ought also to inform you how reasonable he found me in thematter. "

"I have forgiven you, " continued Fabian, "but there is one crime, amongst others, from which your own conscience ought not to absolveyou. "

"There is a perfect understanding between my conscience and myself, "resumed Cuchillo, with a graciously sinister smile, "but it seems to methat we are getting away from our subject. "

"That friend whom you assassinated in such a cowardly manner--"

"Disputed with me the profits of a booty, and faith, the consumption ofbrandy was very considerable, " interrupted Cuchillo. "But permit me--"

"Do not pretend to misunderstand me!" cried Fabian, irritated by theknave's impudence. 

Cuchillo collected his thoughts. 

"If you allude to Tio Tomas, it is an affair which was never very wellunderstood, but--"

Fabian opened his lips to form a distinct accusation with reference tothe assassination of Arellanos, when Pepe broke in--

"I should be curious, " he said, "to learn the real facts concerning TioTomas: perhaps Master Cuchillo has not sufficient leisure to recollecthimself, which would be a pity. "

"I hold it necessary, " continued Cuchillo, flattered at the compliment, "to prove that men own such a susceptible conscience as mine; here thenare the facts--My friend Tio Tomas had a nephew impatient to inherit hisuncle's fortune; I received a hundred dollars from the nephew to hastenthe moment of his inheritance. It was very little for such a capitalwill. 

"It was so little that I gave Tio Tomas warning, and received _two_hundred dollars to prevent his nephew becoming his heir. I committed afault in--despatching the nephew without giving him warning, as I oughtto have done, perhaps. It was then I felt how inconvenient aquarrelsome conscience like mine may become. I seized upon the onlymeans of composition which was left me. The nephew's money was acontinual remorse to me, and I resolved to get rid of it. "

"Of the money?"

"Not so. "

"And you despatched the uncle as well?" cried Pepe. 

Cuchillo assented. 

"From that time my conscience had but little to reproach me with. I hadgained three hundred dollars by the most ingenious integrity. "

Cuchillo was yet smiling, when Fabian exclaimed--

"Were you paid for assassinating Marcos Arellanos?"

At this astounding accusation a livid paleness overspread Cuchillo'sfeatures. 

He could no longer disguise from himself the fate that awaited him. 

The bandage which covered his eyes fell suddenly; and to the flatteringdelusions with which he had deceived himself succeeded a formidablereality. 

"Marcos Arellanos!" he stammered out in a weak voice, "who told youthat? I did not kill him!"

Fabian smiled bitterly. 

"Who tells the shepherd, " he cried, "where the den of the jaguar is tobe found that devours his sheep?

"Who tells the vaquero where the horse that he pursues has taken refuge?

"To the Indian, the enemy he seeks?

"To the gold-seeker the ore, concealed by God?

"The surface of the lake only does not preserve the trace of the birdwhich flies over its waters, nor the form of the cloud which itreflects; but the earth, with its herbs and mosses, reveals to us sonsof the desert, the print of the jaguar's foot as well as the horse'shoof and the Indian's track; do you not know it, even as I do?"

"I did not kill Arellanos, " repeated the assassin. 

"You did kill him; you cut his throat near to our common country; youthrew his corpse into the river; the earth revealed it to me--since Inoticed the defect in the horse you rode, as well as the wound in yourleg, which you received in the struggle. "

"Pardon, Don Tiburcio?" cried Cuchillo, overwhelmed by the suddenrevelation of these facts, to which God alone had been witness. "Takeback all the gold you gave me, but spare my life; and to show mygratitude, I will kill all your enemies everywhere, and always at a signfrom you--for nothing--even my father, if you command me; but in thename of the all-powerful God, spare my life--spare me my life!" hecontinued, crawling forward and clutching at Fabian's knees. 

"Arellanos also craved for mercy; did you listen to him?" said Fabian, turning away. 

"But when I killed him, it was that I might possess all this goldmyself. Now I restore it all for my life--what can you want more?" hecontinued, while he resisted Pepe's efforts, who was trying to preventhim from kissing Fabian's feet. 

With features distorted by excess of terror, a whitish foam upon hislips, his eyes starting from his head, yet seeing nothing, Cuchillostill sued for mercy, as he endeavoured to crawl towards Fabian. He hadby continued efforts reached the edge of the platform. Behind his head, the sheet of water fell foaming downwards. 

"Mercy, mercy!" he cried, "in the name of your mother--for DonaRosarita's sake, who loves you, for I know that she loves you--Iheard--"

"What?" cried Fabian, in his turn rushing towards Cuchillo, but thequestion expired upon his lips. 

Spurned along the earth by the carabinier's foot Cuchillo with head andarms stretched back was hurled into the abyss!

"What have you done, Pepe?" exclaimed Fabian. 

"The wretch, " said the ex-carabinier, "was not worth the cord whichmight have hung him, nor the bullet that would have sent him out of theworld. "

A piercing cry, --a cry which rose from the abyss--which drowned theirvoices and was heard above the roar of the cascade, caused Fabian tostretch his head forward and withdraw it again in horror. Hanging tothe branches of a shrub which bent beneath his weight, and which scarceadhering to the sides of the rock, was fast giving way, Cuchillo hungover the abyss, howling forth his terror and anguish. 

"Help!" he shouted, in a voice despairing as the damned. "Help! if youare human beings--help!"

The three friends exchanged a glance of unutterable meaning, as each onewiped the sweat from his brow. 

Suddenly the bandit's voice grew faint, and amidst horrible bursts oflaughter, like the shrieks of a lunatic, were heard the lastinarticulate words that escaped his lips. 

A moment after, and the noise of the cascade alone broke the silence ofthe desert. The abyss had swallowed up him whose life had been a longtissue of crime. 

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO. 

THE MAN OF THE RED KERCHIEF. 

Six months have elapsed since the three hunters, without deigning tocarry with them a single grain of the treasures of the valley of gold, directed their steps, following the course of the Rio Gila, to theplains of Texas. The rainy had succeeded to the dry season, withoutanything being known of their fate, or of the expedition commanded byDon Estevan de Arechiza. 

Diaz was no more, having carried with him to the tomb the secret of thewonderful valley--and Gayferos had followed his three liberators. Whathad become of these intrepid hunters who had willingly encounteredfatigues, privations and dangers, instead of returning to civilisedlife? Were they as rich and powerful as they might have been? Had thedesert claimed these three noble spirits, as it has done so many others?Like the monk, who seeks in the silence of cloister forgetfulness ofthe world's vain show, had Fabian in the sublimity of solitude been ableto forget the woman who loved him, and who secretly hoped for andexpected his return?

What we are about to relate will answer these questions. 

One sultry afternoon, two men, mounted and armed to the teeth, pursuedthe lonely road which leads from the utmost confines of the province ofSonora to the Presidio of Tubac. Their costume, the coarse equipment oftheir steeds, and the beauty of the latter, formed on the whole astriking contrast and seemed to indicate subalterns despatched by somerich proprietor, either to carry or to seek information. 

The first was clothed in leather from head to foot, like the vaquero ofsome noble hacienda. The second, dark and bearded like a Moor, thoughless simply attired than his companion, did not appear to be of muchgreater consideration. 

At the end of a journey of some days the white houses of the Presidiobegan to appear in the distance. The two cavaliers had probablyexhausted every subject of conversation, for they trotted on in silence. 

The scanty vegetation which covered the plains they were crossing wasagain becoming parched by the sun, after the winter rains; and the drygrass harboured innumerable grasshoppers whose shrill note was heardincessantly, mingled with the scorching breath of the south wind. Thefoliage of the Peruvian trees drooped languidly over the burning sand, like the willows upon the banks of a stream. 

The two cavaliers arrived at the entrance of the Presidio just as thechurch clock sounded the evening _angelus_. 

Tubac was then a village with two cross streets, its houses built ofcement, with only a few windows in the front, as is the custom in placesexposed to the sudden excursions of the Indians. Strong movablebarriers, formed by trunks of trees, protected the four approaches tothe village; and a piece of the artillery of the country, raised uponits carriage, was erected behind each of these barriers. 

Previous to following the new-comers into the Presidio, we must relatean incident which, insignificant in itself, nevertheless acquired someimportance in the heart of a solitary village of Tubac. 

During the space of a fortnight a mysterious personage--inasmuch as hewas unknown to the inhabitants of the Presidio--had frequently, and fora short time, appeared there. He was a man of about forty years of age, thin, but rough and vigorous in appearance, whose countenance seemed totell of dangers overcome, but whose speech was as rare as hisphysiognomy was expressive. He replied shortly to any questionsaddressed to him; but, on the other hand, he asked a great many, andappeared particularly anxious to know what was passing at the Haciendadel Venado. 

Some of the inhabitants of the Presidency knew the rich proprietor verywell by repute, but few amongst them--or, one might rather say, none ofthem--were so thoroughly acquainted with Don Augustin Pena, as to becapable of answering the questions of the stranger. 

Everybody in Tubac remembered the gold-seekers' expedition which had setout six months previously; and according to some vague replies given bythe mysterious personage, it was suspected that he knew more upon thematter than he chose to reveal. He had, he pretended, encountered inthe deserts of the Apache country, a troop commanded by Don Estevan in avery critical position, and he had reason for believing that they musthave fought a last and terrible engagement with the Indians, from theresult of which he augured no good. 

The evening before the arrival of the two travellers, he had inquiredwhat direction he ought to take to reach Don Augustin's house; and, above all, he had testified a great wish to learn whether Dona Rosaritawas still unmarried. 

The unknown always wore on his head a red checkered handkerchief, thefolds of which hung down over his eyes; and in consequence of thishead-dress he always went by the name of the "man with the redkerchief. "

This being explained, let us now return to our two travellers. 

The new-comers--whose arrival created some sensation--on entering thepresidency, directed their steps towards one of the houses of thevillage, at the door of which sat a man, who was soothing his leisurehours by playing upon the guitar. 

One of the cavaliers, addressing him, said--

"_Santas tardes_! my master; will you afford hospitality to twostrangers for a day and a night?"

The musician rose and bowed courteously. 

"Pray dismount, noble cavaliers, " he answered, "this dwelling is at yourservice as long as you please to remain. "

Such is the simple ceremonial of hospitality still in vogue in thesedistant countries. 

The cavaliers dismounted from their horses, in the midst of an idlegroup who had collected around them, and who observed the two strangerswith considerable curiosity--for in the Presidio of Tubac an arrival isa rare event. 

The host silently assisted his guests to unsaddle their horses, but themore inquisitive of the crowd did not exercise so much discretion, andwithout scruple addressed a multitude of questions to the travellers. 

"Good people, " said one of the cavaliers, "let us first attend to ourhorses, and afterwards, when we have taken a mouthful of food, we shallhave a chat. My comrade and myself have come here for that verypurpose. "

Thus saying, the bearded cavalier unfastened his gigantic spurs, threwthem across his horse's saddle, which he deposited, together with itswoollen covering carefully folded, in the piazza attached to the house. 

The two strangers did not dwell long over their repast. They soonrejoined their host upon the threshold, and sat down beside him. 

Their questioners had not yet departed from the house. 

"I am the more inclined, " resumed the bearded traveller, "to inform youall of the object of our visit to the Presidio, since we are sent by ourmaster to ask you a few questions. Will that be agreeable to you?"

"Perfectly, " replied several voices, "and first, may we know who yourmaster is?"

"He is Don Augustin Pena; you are not without some knowledge of hisname?"

"The proprietor of the great Hacienda del Venado--a man worth threemillions! Who does not know him?" replied one of the bystanders. 

"He is the same. This cavalier, whom you see, is a vaquero, entrustedwith the care of the beasts of the hacienda; for myself, I am amajor-domo attached to the service of the proprietor. Would you havethe kindness, my dear friend, to give me a light for my cigar?"continued the bearded major-domo. 

He paused to light his cigar of maize husk, and then resumed:

"Six months ago an expedition set out from here in search of gold dust. This expedition was headed by one named--let me see--_carrai_! I haveheard him called by so many names that I cannot remember any!"

"Don Estevan Arechiza!" replied one of the interlocutors, "a Spaniard, and one such as we do not often see in this country; one who seemed, byhis noble deportment and majestic countenance, to have commanded all hislife. "

"Don Estevan Arechiza: the very same, " said the major-domo, "a man whoas far exceeds all others in generosity as a gamester who has just won afortune. But let me return to the expedition; about how many mencomposed it, do you guess?"

"More than eighty started out with it. "

"More than a hundred, " suggested another. 

"You are mistaken--the number was not a hundred in all, " interrupted athird. 

"That matters little to Don Augustin, my master. It is far moreimportant to know how many returned. "

Upon this point also there were two different opinions. 

"Not a single one, " remarked a voice. 

"Yes; there was one, and but one, " continued another. 

The major-domo rubbed his hands with an air of satisfaction. 

"Good!" said he, "then at least one is saved, provided this gentleman, who declares that all the gold-seekers are not dead, be rightlyinformed, as I hope he is. "

"Do you not think, " said the last who had spoken, "that the man of thered handkerchief may not be one of those whose departure we witnessedsix months ago? I would swear to it by the cross and Gospel. "

"No! not so!" cried another, "that man never set foot in the Presidiobefore the other day. "

"In any case, " interrupted a third, "the man of the red handkerchief hasdoubtless something of interest in store for Don Augustin Pena, since hehas so often inquired about him. With these gentlemen, he will probablybe more communicative than with us. "

"That will be just what we desire, " resumed the major-domo. 

"You must know, then, and I may without indiscretion inform you, "continued he, "that Don Augustin Pena, whom God preserve, was theintimate friend of Senor Arechiza, and that he has had no news of himfor six months past, which would be natural enough if he has beenmassacred by the Indians with all the rest. But my master is anxiousfor his return, that he may marry his daughter, Dona Rosarita, abeautiful and charming person, to the Senator Don Vicente Tragaduros. Months have elapsed, and since the hacienda is not on the main road fromArispe to Tubac, and that we cannot gain information from any one uponthe subject of this deplorable expedition, Don Augustin determined uponsending us here to inquire about it. When he shall have established thefact that Don Estevan's return is impossible--and as young girls do notreadily meet with Senators in the heart of the desert--nor do the latteroften find there girls whose marriage portion is worth two hundredthousand piastres--"

"Carramba! that is a high figure. "

"True, friend, " continued the major-domo, "then the projected marriagewill take place to the mutual satisfaction of all parties. Such is theobject of our journey to Tubac. If, therefore, you can conduct me tohim whom you describe as the sole survivor of this expedition, we shallperhaps learn from him what we wish to discover. "

The conversation had reached this stage, when, at some distance from thehouse where it was taking place, a man was seen passing, with his headbent downwards. 

"See!" said one of the party, pointing to the man in question; "theregoes your sole survivor. "

"In truth, it is a person whose conduct is sufficiently mysterious, "added the host. "For some days past he has done nothing but come andgo, from one place to another, without informing any one of the objectof his journeyings. "

"If it please you, we shall question him?" proposed one. 

"Hola! friend!" cried another of the party; "come this way; here is agentleman who is anxious to see and speak with you. "

The mysterious unknown approached at the summons. 

"Senor cavalier, " said the major-domo, courteously addressing him, "itis not to gratify an idle curiosity that I now address you; but themaster whom I serve feels a natural anxiety at the disappearance of afriend, whose death he would greatly deplore. What do you know of DonEstevan de Arechiza?"

"Many things. But, pray what is the name of the master of whom youspeak?"

"Don Augustin Pena--proprietor of the Hacienda del Venado. "

A ray of joy lit up the countenance of the unknown. 

"I am able, " he said, "to furnish Don Augustin with all the informationhe may desire. How many days' journey is it from hence to thehacienda?"

"Three days' journey, with a good horse. "

"I possess a capital one; and if you can wait for me until to-morrowevening, I shall accompany you, and communicate with Don Augustin inperson. "

"Be it so, " answered the major-domo. 

"Very well, " added the man of the red handkerchief; "to-morrow at thissame hour we will start, so that we may travel by night, and so escapethe heat. "

Saying this, he took his departure, when the major-domo remarked:

"It must be agreed, gentlemen, that nothing can exceed the complaisanceof this cavalier of the red handkerchief. "

The arrangement did not satisfy the bystanders, who were thoroughlydisappointed; but their interest was renewed, on seeing the man of thered handkerchief pass by on horseback, and depart at full speed towardsthe north. 

The unknown kept his promise: and on the day following he returned atthe hour of the evening _angelus_. 

Don Augustin's two envoys took leave of their host, assuring him of akind welcome, if ever his affairs led him in the direction of theHacienda del Venado. Even the poorest in this primitive country, wouldblush to receive any other reward for hospitality than sincere thanks, and a promise that they in their turn should receive it. 

The three horsemen set off at full speed; the horse of the unknownequalled in strength and mettle those of Don Augustin's envoys. Thejourney was rapidly accomplished; and at dawn of the third day, theycould trace in the distance the clock-tower of the Hacienda del Venado, and an hour afterwards they dismounted in the court-yard. Although itwas at that early hour when the sun sheds its most enlivening rays, everything which surrounded this habitation bore the stamp ofmelancholy. One might have supposed that the gloomy nature of theinmates was reflected upon its exterior. 

Dona Rosarita was dying of grief; and this filled the haciendado withthe deepest anxiety. Don Augustin's daughter could not help the beliefthat Fabian yet lived. But why, then, had not Tiburcio, as she alwayscalled him, returned to the hacienda? Either he was dead, or he nolonger loved her? It was this uncertainty that gave rise to DonaRosarita's deep dejection. 

Another source of anxiety to the haciendado, was the absence of all newsfrom the Duke de Armada; and to this anxiety was added impatience. Theprojected marriage between Rosarita and the Senator had been devised byDon Estevan. Tragaduros had urged its fulfilment. Don Augustin hadlaid the proposal before his daughter, but she replied only by tears;and her father still hesitated. 

However, at the expiration of six months, it was determined to put anend to the uncertainty by sending to the Presidio for informationconcerning the expedition commanded by Don Estevan. It was the lastrespite that poor Rosarita had ventured to demand. 

The Senator had absented himself for some days from the hacienda, whenthe major-domo returned, and Don Augustin was informed of the arrival ofa stranger who could remove his uncertainty. He ordered the stranger tobe introduced into the chamber already known to the reader; and DonaRosarita, who had been sent for, speedily joined her father. 

In a few moments the stranger presented himself. A wide felt hat, towhich on entering he raised his hand without removing it, shaded hisface, upon which a keen anxiety was visible. From beneath the broadbrim of his hat a red handkerchief fell so low upon his forehead asalmost to conceal his eyebrows, and from beneath its shadow he gazedwith a singular interest upon the pale countenance of the young girl. 

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE. 

THE STRANGER'S STORY. 

Her head veiled by a silk scarf which partly concealed the luxurianttresses of her dark hair as they fell in luxuriant clusters upon herbosom, Dona Rosarita's countenance gave evidence of long and secretsuffering. 

As she seated herself, a look of deep disquietude increased herpaleness. It seemed as though the young girl feared the approach of amoment, in which she might be required to renounce those sweet dreams ofthe past, for the reality of a future she dared not contemplate. 

When the stranger was also seated the haciendado addressed him. 

"We are indebted to you, my friend, " he said, "for travelling thus farto bring us news which I have been forewarned may prove of a very sadnature; nevertheless we must hear all. God's will be done!"

"My news is in truth sad; but as you say, it is necessary, " and thestranger, laying a stress upon these last words, seemed to addresshimself more particularly to Dona Rosarita, "that you should hear all. I have been witness to many things yonder; and the desert does notconceal so many secrets as one might suppose. "

The young girl trembled slightly, while she fixed upon the man of thered handkerchief, a deep and searching glance. 

"Go on, friend, " said she, in her melodious voice, "we shall havecourage to hear all. "

"What do you know of Don Estevan?" resumed the haciendado. 

"He is dead, Senor. "

A sigh of grief escaped Don Augustin, and he rested his head upon hishands. 

"Who killed him?" he asked. 

"I know not, but he is dead. "

"And Pedro Diaz--that man of such noble and disinterested feeling?"

"He, like Don Estevan, is no more of this world. "

"And his friends Cuchillo, Oroche, and Baraja?"

"Dead as well as Pedro Diaz, all dead except--but with your leave, Senor, I shall commence my narrative at an earlier period. It isnecessary that you should know all. "

"We shall listen to you patiently. "

"I need not detail, " resumed the narrator, "the dangers of every kind, nor the various combats in which we were engaged since our departure. Headed by a chief who inspired us with boundless confidence, we sharedhis perils cheerfully. "

"Poor Don Estevan!" murmured the haciendado. 

"During the last halt in which I was present, a report spread throughthe camp that we were in the vicinity of an immense treasure of gold. Cuchillo, our guide, deserted us; he was absent two days. It wasdoubtless God's will that I should be saved, since it inspired DonEstevan with the idea of sending me in search of him. He thereforecommanded me to scour the country in the environs of the camp. 

"I obeyed him, notwithstanding the danger of the mission, and went insearch of our guide's footsteps. After some time I was fortunate enoughto find his traces; when all at once I perceived in the distance a partyof Apaches engaged in a hunt of wild horses. I turned my horse's headround as quickly as possible, but the ferocious yells which burst out onevery side told me that I was discovered. "

The stranger, in whom the reader has doubtless recognised Gayferos, theunfortunate man who had been scalped, paused an instant as thoughovercome by horrible recollections. Then in continuation, he relatedthe manner in which he was captured by the Indians, his anguish when hethought of the torments they were preparing for him, the desperatestruggle by which he kept up in his race against them with naked feet, and the inexpressible sufferings he endured. 

"Seized by one of them, " said he, "I was struck by a blow which felledme to the earth; then I felt the keen edge of a knife trace, as it were, a circle of fire around my head. I heard a gun fired, a ball hissedclose to my ears, and I lost all consciousness. I cannot tell how manyminutes passed thus. The sound of a second shot caused me to open myeyes, but the blood which covered my face blinded me; I raised my handto my head, which felt both burning and frozen. My skull was bare, theIndian had torn off the hair with the scalp attached to it. In short, they had scalped me! That is the reason, Senor, that I now wear thisred handkerchief both by day and by night. "

During his recital, a cold perspiration covered the narrator'scountenance. His two listeners shuddered with horror. 

After a momentary pause, he continued:

"I ought perhaps to spare you, as well as myself, other sad details. "

Gayferos then related to his auditors the unexpected assistance he hadobtained from the three hunters who had taken refuge upon the littleisland, and was describing the moment in which Bois-Rose carried him offin the presence of the Indians, when this heroic action drew from DonAugustin's lips a cry of admiration. 

"But there were then a score on this little island?" interrupted he. 

"Reckoning the giant who carried me in his arms there were but three, "continued the narrator. 

"_Santa Virgen_! they were trusty men then--but continue. "

The adventurer resumed:

"The companion of him who had carried me in his arms was a man of aboutthe same age--that is, near five-and-forty. There was, besides, a youngman, of a pale but proud countenance, a sparkling eye, and a sweetsmile; by my faith, a handsome young man, Senorita; such a one as afather might with pride own as a son--such as a lady might be proud andhappy to see at her feet. During a short interval of calm, whichsucceeded the horrible agonies I had suffered, I found time to questionthe preservers of my life concerning their names and occupation; but Icould learn nothing from them except that they were hunters, andtravelled for their own pleasure. That was not very probable, still Imade no observation. "

Dona Rosarita could not quite suppress a sigh: perhaps she expected tobe reminded of a familiar name. 

Gayferos continued the recital of various facts with which the reader isalready acquainted. 

"Alas, Senorita, " he continued, "the poor young man was himself capturedby the Indians, and his punishment was to avenge the death of theircompanions. "

At this part of the narrative, Dona Rosarita's cheek became deadly pale. 

"Well, and the young man, " interrupted the haciendado, who was almost asmuch moved as the daughter, on hearing these sad events, "what became ofhim?"

Rosarita, who had remained silent as the narrator proceeded, returned bya look of tender acknowledgment, the solicitude her father testified forthe young man, for whom in spite of herself, she felt so deep aninterest. 

"Three days and three nights were consumed in fearful anguish, relievedonly by a feeble ray of hope. At length on the morning of the fourthday, we were able unawares to fall upon our sanguinary foes; and after adesperate struggle, the warlike giant succeeded in reconquering theyouth, who, safe and sound, he again pressed to his heart, calling himhis beloved child. "

"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed the haciendado, with a sigh of relief. 

Rosarita remained silent, but her colour suddenly returning, testifiedto the pleasure she experienced: while a joyous smile lit up hercountenance on hearing the last words of the narrator. 

"Continue!" said the haciendado; "but, in your recital, which is deeplyinteresting to a man who was himself during six months held captive bythe Indians, I seek in vain for any details relative to poor DonEstevan's death. "

"I am ignorant of them, " continued Gayferos, "and I can only repeat thewords spoken by the youngest of the three hunters, when I questioned himupon the subject. "

"He is dead, " said the young man to me, "you yourself are the lastsurvivor of a numerous expedition; when you shall have returned to yourown country--for, " added he, with a sigh, "you have perhaps some one, who in grief numbers the days of your absence--they will question youconcerning the fate of your chief, and the men he commanded. You willreply to them, that the men died fighting--as to their chief, that hewas condemned by the justice of God, and that the divine sentencepronounced against him, was executed in the desert. Don EstevanArechiza will never again return to his friends. "

"Poor Don Estevan!" exclaimed the haciendado. 

"And you could never learn the names of these brave, generous, anddevoted men?" asked Dona Rosarita. 

"Not at the moment, " continued Gayferos; "only it appeared strange tome, that the youngest of the three hunters spoke to me of Don Estevan, Diaz, Oroche, and Baraja, as though he knew them perfectly. "

A pang shot through Dona Rosarita's heart, her bosom heaved, her cheekswere dyed with a deep crimson, then became pale again as the flowers ofthe _datura_, but she still remained silent. 

"I draw towards the close of my recital, " continued Gayferos. "Afterhaving recovered the brave warrior's son from the Apaches, we journeyedtowards the plains of Texas. I shall not relate to you all the dangerswe encountered during six months of our wandering life, as hunters ofthe otter and the beaver, nevertheless, it had its charms; but there wasone amongst us, who was far from finding this life agreeable. This wasour young companion. 

"When I saw him for the first time I was struck by the melancholyexpression of his countenance, but afterwards, as we journeyed together, I noticed that this melancholy, instead of decreasing, seemed daily toaugment. The old hunter, whom I believed to be his father (I know nowthat he is not), took every opportunity of calling his attention to themagnificence of the vast forest in which we lived, the imposing scenesof the desert, or the charm of the perils we encountered. They werevain efforts, for nothing could banish the grief that consumed him. Heseemed only to forget it in the midst of the dangers he eagerly sought. One might have supposed that life to him was no more than a heavy burdenwhich he desired to get rid of. 

"Full of compassion for him, I often said to the old hunter--`Solitudeis only suited to an advanced age, youth delights in activity, and inthe presence of its equals. Let us return to our habitations. ' But thegiant only sighed without replying. 

"Soon afterwards the manner of the two hunters, who loved their youngcompanion as a son, became also saddened. 

"One night while the young man and I were watching, I recalled a namewhich six months before he had uttered in his sleep. I then learned thesecret of that grief which was slowly consuming him. He loved, andsolitude had but increased a passion which he vainly sought to stifle. "

Gayferos paused an instant to cast a searching glance upon thecountenances of his auditors, especially upon that of Dona Rosarita. Heappeared to take a secret pleasure in exciting the young girl by therecital of all the circumstances best calculated to touch the heart of awoman. 

As a warrior and a hunter, the haciendado did not attempt to conceal theinterest with which the stranger's narrative was inspiring him. 

Rosarita, on the contrary, endeavoured, under a mask of studiedcoldness, to conceal the charm she experienced on listening to thisromance of heart and action, whose most stirring pages were soconsiderately opened to her by the intelligent narrator. 

But her heightened colour and the fire in her large dark eyes completelybelied her efforts. 

"Ah!" cried Don Augustin, "if these three brave men had been under DonEstevan's command, the fate of the expedition might have been fardifferent. "

"I am of the same opinion, " replied Gayferos, "but God had ordained itotherwise. Meanwhile, " he continued, "I felt a great longing again tosee my native land, but gratitude required that I should conceal it. But the old warrior divined my thoughts, and one day addressed me onthis subject. 

"Too generous to suffer me alone to brave the dangers of my homewardjourney, the giant hunter resolved to accompany me as far as Tubac. Hiscompanion did not oppose his resolution, and we set out for thefrontier. The young man alone seemed, to follow us reluctantly in thisdirection. 

"I shall not describe our fatigues and the various difficulties wesurmounted, in the course of our long and perilous journey. I wish, however, to speak of one of our last encounters with the Indians. 

"In order to reach the Presidio we were obliged to cross the chain ofthe Rocky Mountains. It was towards the approach of night that we foundourselves amongst their gloomy solitudes, and we were obliged to halt. 

"This is a spot much frequented by the Indians, and we could not encampwithout the greatest precaution. 

"Nothing, as it seems to me, can better resemble the abode of condemnedsouls than these mountains, where we spent the night. At every momentstrange sounds, which appeared to proceed from the cavities of therocks, broke upon our ears. At one time it was a volcano, which rumbledwith dull and heavy noise beneath us, or the distant roar of a cataract:sometimes resembling the howling of wolves or plaintive cries; and fromtime to time dreadful flashes of lightning tore aside the veil of mistwhich eternally covers these mountains. 

"For fear of a surprise we had encamped upon a rock which projected, inthe form of a table, above a wide open valley about fifty feet below us. The two elder hunters were asleep; the youngest alone kept watch. Itwas his turn, and as usual he had been compelled to insist upon it--forhis companions seemed unwilling thus to allow him to share their toils. 

"As for myself, sick and suffering, I was stretched upon the ground. After many vain efforts to obtain a little rest, at length I slept, whena frightful dream awoke me with a start. 

"`Did you hear nothing?' I asked of the young man, in a low voice. `Nothing, ' he replied, `except the rumbling of the subterraneanvolcanoes in the mountains. ' `Say, rather, that we are here in anaccursed spot, ' I continued, and then I related my dream to him. 

"`It is, perhaps a warning, ' he said gravely. `I remember one night tohave had just such a dream, when--'

"The young man paused. He had advanced to the edge of the rock. Icrawled after him mechanically. The same object arrested our attentionat the same moment. 

"One of those spirits of darkness which might have inhabited such aspot, appeared suddenly to have acquired a visible form. It was a kindof phantom, with the head and skin of a wolf, but erect upon its legslike a human being. I made the sign of the cross, and murmured aprayer, but the phantom did not stir. 

"`It is the devil, ' I whispered. 

"`It is an Indian, ' replied the young man; `there are his companions atsome distance. '

"In short, our eyes, well practised in making out objects in the dark, could distinguish about twenty Indians, stretched upon the ground, andwho, in truth, had no idea of our vicinity. 

"Ah, Senorita!" added the narrator, addressing himself to Dona Rosarita, "it was one of those opportunities fraught with danger, which the pooryoung man sought with so much avidity; and your heart, like mine, wouldhave been torn at beholding the sad joy which sparkled in his eyes; forthe further we travelled in this direction the more his melancholyseemed to increase. 

"`Let us wake our friends, ' I suggested. 

"`No; let me go alone. These two men have done enough for me. It isnow my turn to run a risk for them and, if I die, I shall forget--'

"As he spoke these words the young man quitted me, made a detour, and Ilost sight of him--without, however, ceasing to behold the frightfulapparition which continued immovable in the same spot. 

"All at once I saw another dusky shape, which rushed towards the phantomand seized it by the throat. The two forms grappled with one another. The struggle was short and noiseless, and one might have believed themtwo spirits. I prayed to God in behalf of the poor young man who thusexposed his life with so much indifference and intrepidity. A shorttime afterwards I saw him return; the blood was flowing over his facefrom a large wound on his head. 

"`Oh, Heavens!' I cried; `you are wounded. '

"`It is nothing, ' he said; `I will now wake our companions. '

"What do you think, Senorita?" continued the narrator. "Was not mydream a warning from God? A party of Indians, whom we had put to flighton the other side of the mountains--had followed our track in order torevenge the blood of their companions, which had been spilt upon thebanks of the Gila--at the place where we had rescued the young man. 

"But the Indians had to contend with terrible adversaries. Theirsentinel was the phantom who had been killed by the courageous hunterbefore he had time to utter a cry of alarm, and the rest, surprised intheir sleep, were nearly all stabbed; a few sought safety in flight. 

"The night had not passed before this new exploit was accomplished. 

"The tall hunter hastened to dress the wound of the young man, whom heloved as a son; and the latter, overcome with fatigue, stretched himselfupon the ground and slept. 

"In the mean time his two friends watched by his side to guide hissleep, whilst I in sadness contemplated his altered countenance, hisreduced figure, and the bloodstained bandage with which his head wasbound. "

"Poor youth, " interrupted Dona Rosarita, gently, "still so young, andyet compelled to lead a life of incessant danger. And his father, also, he must have trembled for the life of a beloved son?"

"Beloved, as you say, Senorita, " continued the narrator. 

"During a period of six months I was a daily witness to the infinitetenderness of this father for his child. 

"The young man slept tranquilly, and his lips softly murmured a name--that of a woman--the same which had lately been revealed to me in hisslumber. "

Rosarita's dark eyes seemed to question the narrator, but her wordsexpired upon her parted lips; she dared not utter the name her heart waswhispering in her ears. 

"But I encroach upon your time, " continued Gayferos, without appearingto notice the young girl's agitation. "I draw towards the close of mynarrative. 

"The young man woke just as day began to dawn. `Comrade, ' said thegiant to me, `go down yonder and count the dead which these dogs haveleft behind them. '

"Eleven corpses stretched upon the ground, " continued Gayferos, "and twocaptured horses, attested the victory of these intrepid hunters. "

"Let all due honour be given to these formidable men, " cried DonAugustin, with enthusiasm, whilst his daughter, clapping her littlehands together, exclaimed, with sparkling eyes, and an enthusiasm whichequalled that of her father--

"That is splendid! that is sublime! so young, and yet so brave. "

Rosarita only lavished her praises upon the young unknown--thoughperhaps the acute perception which belongs to a woman, and which almostresembles a second sight, may have revealed to her his name. 

The narrator seemed to appreciate the praises bestowed upon his friends. 

"But did you not learn their names?" asked Dona Rosarita, timidly. 

"The elder was called Bois-Rose, the second Pepe. As to the youngman--"

Gayferos appeared vainly endeavouring to recall the name withoutremarking the anguish which was depicted in the young girl's agitatedframe, and visible in her anxious eyes. 

By the similarity of position between Tiburcio and the unknown, shecould not doubt but that it was he; and the poor child was collectingall her strength to listen to his name, and not to utter, on hearing it, a cry of happiness and love. 

"As to the young man, " continued the narrator, "he was called Fabian. "

At this name, which was unknown to the young girl, and which at oncedestroyed her pleasant delusions, she pressed her hand upon her heart, her lips became white, and the colour which hope had revived in hercheek faded away. She could only repeat mechanically. 

"Fabian!"

At this moment the recital was interrupted by the entrance of a servant. The Chaplain begged the haciendado to come to him for an instant, uponsome business he had to communicate to him. 

Don Augustin quitted the apartment, saying that he should speedilyreturn. 

Gayferos and the young girl were now left alone; the former observed hersome moments in silence, and with a delight he could scarcely conceal, saw that Rosarita trembled beneath the folds of her silk scarf. By asecret feeling the poor child divined that Gayferos had not yetfinished. At length the latter said gently, "Fabian bore another name, Senorita; do you wish to hear it, while we are alone and withoutwitnesses?"

Rosarita turned pale. 

"Another name! oh, speak it?" she cried, in a trembling voice. 

"He was long known as Tiburcio Arellanos. "

A cry of joy escaped the young girl, who rose from her seat, andapproaching the bearer of this good news, seized his hand. 

"Thanks! thanks!" she exclaimed, "if my heart has not already spokenthem. "

Then she tottered across the chamber, and knelt at the feet of aMadonna, which, framed in gold, hung against the wall. 

"Tiburcio Arellanos, " continued the narrator, "is now Fabian, and Fabianis the last descendant of the Counts of Mediana--a noble and powerfulSpanish family. "

The young girl continued on her knees in prayer without appearing tolisten to Gayferos' words. 

"Immense possessions, a lofty name, titles and honours. All these hewill lay at the feet of the woman who shall accept his hand. "

The young girl continued her fervent prayer without turning her head. 

"And, moreover, " resumed the narrator, "the heart of Don Fabian deMediana still retains a feeling which was dear to the heart of TiburcioArellanos. "

Rosarita paused in her prayer. 

"Tiburcio Arellanos will be here to-night. "

This time the young girl no longer prayed. It was Tiburcio and notFabian, Count of Mediana. Tiburcio, poor, and unknown, for whom she hadwept. At the sound of this name, she listened. Honours, titles, wealth. What were they to her? Fabian lived, and loved her still, whatmore could she desire?

"If you will come to the breach in the wall, where, full of despair, heparted from you, you will find him there this very evening. Do youremember the place?"

"Oh! my God!" she murmured, softly, "do I not visit it every evening?"

And once more bending before the image of the Virgin, Rosarita resumedher interrupted prayer. 

The adventurer contemplated for some instants this enthusiastic andbeautiful creature, her scarf partly concealing her figure, her nudeshoulders caressed by the long tresses of her dark hair, which fell insoft rings upon their surface; then without interrupting her devotion, he rose from his seat and silently fitted the chamber. 

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR. 

THE RETURN. 

When Don Augustin Pena returned, he found his daughter alone, and stillkneeling; he waited until her prayer was finished. The news of DonEstevan's death so entirely occupied the haciendado's mind that henaturally attributed Dona Rosarita's pious action to another motive thanthe true one. He believed that she was offering up to Heaven a ferventprayer for the repose of his spirit, whose mysterious end they had justbeen made acquainted with. 

"Every day, " said he, "during the following year, the Chaplain will, bymy orders, say a mass for Don Estevan's soul, for this man spake of thejustice of God, which was accomplished in the desert. These words areserious, and the manner with which they were pronounced, leaves no doubtas to their veracity. "

"May God pardon him!" replied Rosarita, rising from her knees, "andgrant him the mercy he requires. "

"May God pardon him!" repeated Don Augustin, earnestly, "the noble DonEstevan was no ordinary man, or rather, that you may now know it, Rosarita, Don Antonia de Mediana, who, in his lifetime, was Knight ofthe Grand Cross, and Duke de Armada. "

"Mediana, did you say, my father?" cried the young girl, "what! he mustthen be his son?"

"Of whom do you speak?" asked Don Augustin, in astonishment, "DonAntonio was never married. What can you mean?"

"Nothing, my father, unless it be that your daughter is to-day veryhappy. "

As she said these words, Dona Rosarita threw her arms round her father'sneck, and leaning her head upon his breast burst into a passion oftears; but in these tears there was no bitterness, they flowed softly, like the dew which the American jasmine sheds in the morning from itspurple flowers. 

The haciendado, but little versed in the knowledge of the female heart, misconstrued the tears, which are sometimes a luxury to women; and hecould conceive nothing of the happiness which was drawing them from hisdaughter's eyes. 

He questioned her anew, but she contented herself with answering, whileher lips were parted by a smile, and her eyes were still moist. 

"To-morrow I shall tell you all, my father. "

The good haciendado did indeed require the explanation of this mystery, when he was left in ignorance of the chief fact concerning it. 

"We have another duty to fulfil, " continued he; "the last wish expressedby Don Antonio, on parting from me, was that you should be united to theSenator Tragaduros. It will be in compliance with the request of onewho is now no more, that this marriage should no longer be delayed. Doyou see any obstacle to it, Rosarita?"

The young girl started at these words, which reminded her of the fatalengagement she had sought to banish from memory. Her bosom swelled, andher tears flowed afresh. 

"Well, " said the haciendado, smiling, "this is another proof ofhappiness, is it not?"

"Of happiness!" repeated Rosarita, bitterly. "Oh! no, no, my father!"

Don Augustin was now more puzzled than ever; for, as he himself alleged, his life had been spent more in studying the artifices of Indians, withwhom he had long disputed his domain, than in diving into the hearts ofwomen. 

"Oh, my father!" cried Rosarita, "this marriage would now prove asentence of death to your poor child!"

At this sudden declaration, which he had not expected, Don Augustin wasquite stupefied, and it was with difficulty he subdued the anger towhich it had given rise. 

"What!" he cried with some warmth, "did you not yourself consent to thismarriage only a month ago? Did you not agree that it should beconsummated when we knew that Don Estevan could not return? He is dead;what then do you wish?"

"It is true, father; I did fix that period, but--"

"Well!"

"But I did not know that he still lived. "

"Don Antonio de Mediana?"

"No; Don Fabian de Mediana, " replied Rosarita, in a low voice. 

"Don Fabian? who is this Fabian of whom you speak?"

"He whom we called Tiburcio Arellanos. "

Don Augustin remained mute with surprise: his daughter took advantage ofhis silence. 

"When I consented to this marriage, " said she, "I believed that DonFabian was forever lost to us. I did not know that he still loved me;and yet--consider whether I do not love you, my father; consider what agrievous sacrifice I made in my affection for you--I knew well--"

As she spoke these words--her eyes moist with tears, yet shining withtheir own sweet lustre--the poor girl approached, and, by a suddenimpulse, threw herself upon her father's shoulder to hide her risingblushes. 

"I knew then that I loved him only, " she murmured. 

"But of whom do you speak?"

"Of Tiburcio Arellanos--of the Count Fabian de Mediana--they are one andthe same person. "

"Of the Count Mediana?" repeated Don Augustin. 

"Yes, " cried Rosarita, passionately; "I still love in him TiburcioArellanos, however noble, powerful, and rich may be at this hour CountFabian de Mediana. "

Noble, powerful, and rich, are words that sound well in the ear of anambitious father, when applied to a young man whom he loves and esteems, but whom he believes to be poor. Tiburcio Arellanos would have met witha refusal from Don Augustin--softened, it is true, by affectionatewords--but had not Fabian de Mediana a better chance of success?

"Will you tell me how Tiburcio Arellanos can be Fabian de Mediana?"asked Don Augustin, with more curiosity than anger. "Who gave you thisinformation?"

"You were not present at the close of the stranger's narrative, " repliedDona Rosarita, "or you would have heard that the young companion of thetwo brave hunters whose dangers he nobly shared, was no other thanTiburcio Arellanos, now become the Count Fabian de Mediana. To this dayI am ignorant of how, alone and wounded, he quitted the hacienda, and bywhat circumstances he found these unexpected protectors--or whatrelationship exists between Tiburcio and the Duke de Armada. But thisman, who knows, will tell you. "

"Let him be instantly sought, " said Don Augustin, quickly; and he calledan attendant to whom he gave the order. 

Don Augustin awaited with the greatest impatience, the return ofGayferos; but they sought him in vain. He had disappeared. We shallpresently explain the motive of his departure. Almost at the samemoment in which the haciendado and his daughter were informed of it, another attendant entered to announce that Tragaduros was dismounting inthe court-yard of the hacienda. 

The coincidence of the Senator's return with the approaching arrival ofFabian, was one of those events in which chance, oftener than might besupposed, sports with the events of real life. 

Rosarita, in order to secure an ally in her father, hastened to embracehim tenderly, and to testify her astonishment at a miracle, which hadconverted the adopted son of a gambusino into the heir of one of themost powerful families in Spain. After having launched this twofolddart against the Senator, the young girl vanished from the apartment, leaving her father alone. 

Tragaduros entered like a man who feels that the announcement of hisarrival is always welcome. His manner was that of a future kinsman, forhe had obtained the father's promise and the daughter's consent, although that consent was only tacitly given. However, notwithstandinghis self-satisfaction, and his confidence in the future, the Senatorcould not fail to remark the grave reserve of Don Augustin's manner. Hethought himself at liberty to remark it. 

"Don Estevan de Arechiza, the Duke of Armada, is no more, " said thehaciendado; "both you and I have lost a dear and noble friend. "

"What, dead?" cried the Senator, hiding his face with an embroideredcambric handkerchief. "Poor Don Estevan! I do not think I shall everbe able to console myself. "

His future, nevertheless, might not have been obscured by perpetualgrief, for the regret he expressed was far from being in harmony withhis most secret thoughts. While he acknowledged the many obligations heowed to Don Estevan, he could not help remembering that had he lived, hewould have been compelled to spend in political intrigues the half ofhis wife's marriage portion; half a million of money he must thus havethrown to the dogs. It is true, he said to himself, I shall neither bea count, marquis, or duke of any kind, but to my thinking, half amillion of money is worth more than a title, and will multiply mypleasures considerably. This fatal event will besides hasten the periodof my marriage. Perhaps after all Don Estevan's death is not amisfortune. "Poor Don Estevan, " he continued aloud, "what an unexpectedblow!"

Tragaduros had yet to learn that it might have been better for him hadDon Estevan lived. We will leave him with the haciendado, and followGayferos--for perhaps the reader will be glad to hear from him again. 

The adventurer had saddled his horse, and unseen by anybody had crossedthe plain and again taken the road which led to the Presidio of Tubac. 

The route which he followed for some time brought him in contact withfew travellers, and when by chance some horseman appeared in thedistance, Gayferos, as he passed him, exchanged an impatient salutation, but failed to recognise the one he sought. 

The day was drawing towards a close, and it was at a late hour whenGayferos uttered a joyful exclamation on seeing three travellersadvancing at a gallop. 

These travellers were no others than the Canadian, Pepe, and Fabian deMediana. The giant was mounted upon a strong mule, larger and morevigorous than the Mexican horses. Nevertheless this animal was somewhatout of proportion with the gigantic stature of the rider. 

Fabian and Pepe rode two excellent coursers, which they had taken fromthe Indians. 

The young man was greatly changed since the day when he arrived for thefirst time at the Hacienda del Venado. 

Painful and indelible recollections had left their traces upon his paleand wasted cheeks, a few wrinkles furrowed his brow, though thebrilliancy of his eye was heightened by the sorrowful reflection of thepassion which consumed him. But perhaps in the eyes of a woman his paleand sickly appearance might render the young Count of Mediana still morehandsome and interesting than was that of Tiburcio Arellanos. 

Would not that countenance, ennobled by toil and travel, remind DonaRosarita of the love for which she had every reason to feel proud andhappy? Would it not tell of dangers overcome, and surround itself witha double halo of sacrifice and suffering?

As to the rough countenances of the hunters, sun, fatigue, and danger ofevery kind had left them unchanged. If the hot winds had bronzed theirskin, six months more of the adventurous life to which they wereaccustomed left no trace upon their sunburnt features. 

They testified no surprise on seeing the gambusino, but a livelycuriosity was depicted in the glance of each. A look from Gayferos, however, soon satisfied them. That look doubtless assured them that allwas as they wished. Fabian alone expressed some astonishment on seeinghis old companion so near the Hacienda del Venado. 

"Was if in order to precede us here that you came to take leave of usnear Tubac?" asked Fabian. 

"Doubtless--did I not tell you so?" replied Gayferos. 

"I did not understand you thus, " said Fabian, who, without seeming toattach much importance to that which was said or done around him, relapsed into the melancholy silence which had become habitual to him. 

Gayferos turned his horse's head round, and the four travellerscontinued their journey in silence. 

At the expiration of an hour, during which Gayferos and the Canadianonly exchanged a few words in a low tone, and to which Fabian, alwaysabsorbed in thought, gave no attention, the recollections of a past, notvery remote, crowded upon the memory of the three travellers. They wereagain crossing the plain which extends beyond El Salto de Agua, and afew minutes afterwards they reached the torrent itself which foams downperpetually between the rocks. A bridge, the same size as the formerone, replaced that which had been precipitated into the gulf below bythose men who now slept their last sleep in the valley of gold, theobject of their ambition. 

The Canadian here dismounted. 

"Now, Fabian, " said he, "here Don Estevan was found; the three bandits(I except, however, poor Diaz, the tenor of the Indians) were there. See, here are still the prints of your horse's hoofs--when he slippedfrom this rock, dragging you downwards in his fall. Ah! Fabian, mychild, I can even now see the water foaming around you--even now hearthe cry of anguish I uttered. What an impetuous young man you thenwere!"

"That I no longer am, " said Fabian, smiling sadly. 

"Oh, no! at the present time your manner is imbued with the firmstoicism of an Indian warrior who smiles at the tortures of the stake. In the midst of these scenes your face is calm, yet I am convinced therecollections they recall to you must be harrowing in the extreme; is itnot so, Fabian?"

"You are mistaken, my father, " replied Fabian; "my heart resembles thisrock, where, though you say so, I no longer trace my horse's hoofs; andmy memory is mute as the echo of your own voice, which you seem still tohear. When, before suffering me to return and live forever removed fromthe inhabitants of yonder deserts, you required as a last trial that Ishould again behold a spot which might recall old recollections, I toldyou those recollections no longer existed. "

A tear dimmed the Canadian's eye, but he concealed it by turning hisback to Fabian as he remounted his mule. 

The travellers then crossed the bridge formed of the trunks of trees. 

"Do you trace upon this moss which covers the ground the print of myhorse's hoofs when I pursued Don Estevan and his troop?" asked Fabian ofBois-Rose. "No! the dead leaves of the past winter have obliteratedthem--the grass which sprung up after the rainy season has grown overthem. "

"Ah! if I raised the leaves, if I tore up the grass, I should againdiscover their traces, Fabian; and if I searched the depth of yourheart--"

"You would find nothing, I tell you, " interrupted Fabian with someimpatience; "but I am mistaken, " he added, gently, "you would find areminiscence of childhood, one of those in which you are associated, myfather. "

"I believe it, Fabian, I believe it--you who have been the delight of mywhole life; but I have told you that I will not accept your sacrificeuntil to-morrow at this hour, when you shall have seen all, even thebreach in the old wall, over which you once sprung, wounded in body andspirit. "

A shudder, like that of the condemned on seeing the last terribleinstrument of torture, passed through Fabian's frame. 

The travellers halted at length, in that part of the forest situatedbetween the Salto de Agua and the hacienda, in the open space whereFabian had found in the Canadian and his comrade, friends whom Godseemed to have sent to him from the extreme ends of the earth. 

Now the shades of night no longer obscured the silent depths of theAmerican forest--a silence in which there is something awful when thesun in its zenith sends forth burning rays like blades of crimson fire, when the flower of the lliana closes its chalice, when the stems of thegrass drop languidly downwards, as though in search of nourishment, andthe whole face of nature, silent and inanimate, appears buried in sleep. The distant roar of the cataract was the only sound which at this hourbroke the stillness of the forest. 

The travellers unsaddled, and having removed their horses' bridles, fastened them at some distance off. As they had travelled all night toescape the heat of the sun, they determined to take their siesta underthe shade of the trees. 

Gayferos was the first who fell asleep. His affection for Fabian wasnot disturbed by any fears for the future. Pepe was not long infollowing his example. The Canadian only and Fabian did not close theireyes. 

"You are not sleeping, Fabian, " said Bois-Rose, in a low voice. 

"No, nor you. Why do you not take some rest, like our companions?"

"One cannot sleep, Fabian, in a spot consecrated by so many sacredmemories, " replied the old hunter. "This place is rendered holy to me. Was it not here that, by the intervention of a miracle, I again foundyou in the heart of this forest, after having lost you upon the wideocean? I should be ungrateful to the Almighty if I could forget this--even to obtain the rest which He has appointed for us. "

"I think as you do, my father, and listen to your words, " replied theyoung Count. 

"Thanks, Fabian; thanks also to that God who ordained that I should findyou with a heart so noble and so loving. See! here are still theremains of the fire near which I sat; here are the brands, still black, though they have been washed by the rain of an entire season. Here isthe tree against which I leant on the happiest evening of my life, sinceit restored you to me; for now that I can again call you my son, eachday of my existence has been fraught with happiness, until I learnt whatI should have understood, that my affection for you was not that towhich the young heart aspires. "

"Why so frequently allude to this subject, my father?" said Fabian, withthat gentle submission which is more cutting than the bitterestreproach. 

"As you will. Let us not again allude to that which may pain you; weshall speak of it after the trial to which I have submitted you. "

The father and son--for we may indeed call them so--now maintained along silence, listening only to the voices of nature. The sunapproached the horizon, a light breeze sprung up and rustled among theleaves; already hopping from branch to branch, the birds resumed theirsong, the insects swarmed in the grass, and the lowing of cattle washeard in the distance. It was the denizens of the forest who welcomedthe return of evening. 

The two sleepers awoke. 

After a short and substantial repast, of which Gayferos had brought thematerials from the Hacienda del Venado, the four travellers awaited incalm meditation the hour of their great trial. 

Some time passed away before the azure sky above the open clearing wasovercast. 

Gradually, however, the light of day diminished on the approach oftwilight, and then myriads of stars shone in the firmament, like sparkssown by the sun as he quitted the horizon. At length, as on thatevening to which so many recollections belonged, when Fabian, wounded, reached the wood-rangers by their fire, the moon illumined the summitsof the trees and the glades of the forest. 

"Can we light a fire?" inquired Pepe. 

"Certainly; for it may chance that we shall spend the night here, "replied Bois-Rose. "Is not this your desire, Fabian?"

"It matters little to me, " replied the young man; "here or yonder, arewe not always agreed?"

Fabian, as we have said, had long felt that the Canadian could not live, even with him, in the heart of towns, without yearning for the libertyand free air of the desert. He knew also that to live without him wouldbe still more impossible for his comrade; and he had generously offeredhimself as a sacrifice to the affection of the old hunter. 

Bois-Rose was aware of the full extent of the sacrifice, and the tear hehad that morning shed by stealth, was one of gratitude. We shallby-and-by enter more fully into the Canadian's feelings. 

The position of the stars indicated eleven o'clock. 

"Go, my son, " said Bois-Rose to Fabian. "When you have reached the spotwhere you parted from the woman who perhaps loved you, put your handupon your heart. If you do not feel its pulses beat quicker, return, for you will then have overcome the past. "

"I shall return, then, " replied Fabian, in a tone of melancholyfirmness: "memory is to me like the breath of the wind which passes bywithout resting, and leaves no trace. "

He departed slowly. A fresh breeze tempered the hot exhalations whichrose from the earth. A resplendent moon shone upon the landscape at themoment when Fabian, having quitted the shadow of the forest, reached theopen space intervening between it and the wall inclosing the hacienda. 

Until that moment he proceeded with a slow but firm step, but when, through the silver vapours of the night, he perceived the white wallwith the breach in the centre partly visible, his pace slackened, andhis knees trembled under him. 

Did he dread his approaching defeat? for his conscience told him alreadythat he would be vanquished--or was it rather those recollections which, now so painfully recalled, rose up before him like the floods of thesea?

There was a deep silence, and the night, but for a slight vapour, wasclear. All at once Fabian halted and stood still like the dismayedtraveller, who sees a phantom rise up in his path. A white and airyform appeared distinctly visible above the breach in the old wall. Itresembled one of the fairies in the old legends of the north, which tothe eye of the Scandinavian idolaters floated amidst vapours and mists. To the eye of Fabian it bore the angel form of his first and only love!

For one instant this lovely apparition appeared to Fabian to melt away;but his eyes deceived him, for in spite of himself they were obscured. The vision remained stationary. When he had strength to move, headvanced nearer, and still the vision did not disappear. 

The young man's heart felt as if it would burst, for at this moment ahorrible idea crossed his mind. He believed that what he saw wasRosarita's spirit, and he would rather a thousand times have known herliving, though pitiless and disdainful, than behold her dead, though sheappeared in the form of a gentle and benignant apparition. 

A voice, whose sweet accents fell upon his ear like heavenly music, failed to dispel the illusion, though the voice spoke in human accents. 

"Is it you, Tiburcio? I expected you. "

Even the penetration of a spirit from the other world could not havedivined that he would return from such a distance. 

"Is it you, Rosarita?" cried Fabian, in a scarcely perceptible voice, "or a delusive vision which will quickly disappear?"

And Fabian stood motionless, fixed to the spot, so greatly did he fearthat the beloved image would vanish from his sight. 

"It is I, " said the voice; "I am indeed here. "

"O God! the trial will be more terrible than I dared to think, " saidFabian, inwardly. 

And he advanced a step forward, then paused; the poor young man did notentertain a hope. 

"By what miracle of heaven do I find you here?" he cried. 

"I come every evening, Tiburcio, " replied the young girl. 

This time Fabian began to tremble more with love than hope. 

We have seen that Rosarita, in her last interview with Fabian, choserather to run the risk of death than confess that she loved him. Sincethen she had suffered so much, she had shed so many tears, that now lovewas stronger than virgin purity. 

A young girl may sometimes, by such courage, sanctify and enhance hermodesty. 

"Come nearer, Tiburcio, " she said; "see! here is my hand. "

Fabian rushed forward to her feet. He seized the hand she offeredconvulsively, but he tried in vain to speak. 

The young girl looked down with anxious tenderness upon his face. 

"Let me see if you are much changed, Tiburcio, " she continued. "Ah!yes. Grief has left its traces on your brow, but honour has ennobledit. You are as brave as you are handsome, Tiburcio. I learned withpride that danger had never made your cheek turn pale. "

"You heard, did you say?" cried Fabian; "but what have you heard?"

"All, Tiburcio; even to your most secret thoughts. I have heard all, even of your coming here this evening. Do you understand? and I amhere!"

"Before I dare to comprehend, Rosarita, --for this time a mistake wouldkill me, " continued Fabian, whose heart was stirred to its very depthsby the young girl's words, and the tenderness of her manner, "will youanswer one question, that is if I dare to ask it?"

"Dare, then, Tiburcio, " said Rosarita, tenderly. "Ask what you wish. Icame to-night to hear you--to deny you nothing. "

"Listen, " said the young Count: "six months ago I had to avenge mymother's death, and that of the man who had stood in my father's place, Marcos Arellanos; for if you know all, you know that I am no longer--"

"To me you are the same, Tiburcio; I never knew Don Fabian de Mediana. "

"The wretch who was about to expiate his crime--the assassin of MarcosArellanos, in short, Cuchillo--begged for his life. I had no power togrant it; when he cried, `I ask it in the name of Dona Rosarita, wholoves you, for I heard--, ' the suppliant was upon the edge of aprecipice. I would have pardoned him for love of you; when one of mycompanions precipitated him into the gulf below. A hundred times, inthe silence of the night, I recalled that suppliant voice, and askedmyself in anguish, What did he then hear? I ask it of you this evening, Rosarita. "

"Once, once only, did my lips betray the secret of my heart. It washere, in this very spot, when you had quitted our dwelling. I willrepeat to you what I then said. "

The girl seemed to be collecting all her strength, before she dared tellthe young man that she loved him, and that openly and passionately;then--her pure countenance shining with virgin innocence, which fearsnot, because it knows no ill, she turned towards Tiburcio. 

"I have suffered too much, " she said, "from one mistake, to allow of anyother; it is thus, then, with my hands in yours, and my eyes meetingyours, that I repeat to you what I then said. You had fled from me, Tiburcio. I knew you were far away, and I thought God alone heard mewhen I cried: `_Come back, Tiburcio, come back! I love only you_!'"

Fabian, trembling with love and happiness, knelt humbly at the feet ofthis pure young girl, as he might have done before a Madonna, who haddescended from her pedestal. 

At this moment he was lost to all the world, --Bois-Rose, the past, thefuture--all were forgotten like a dream on awaking, and he cried in abroken voice:

"Rosarita! I am yours forever! I dedicate my future life to you only. "

Rosarita uttered a faint cry. Fabian turned, and remained mute withastonishment. 

Leaning quietly upon his long carbine, stood Bois-Rose, a few paces fromthem, contemplating, with a look of deep tenderness the two lovers. 

It was the realisation of his dream in the isle of Rio Gila. 

"Oh, my father!" cried Fabian sadly; "do you forgive me for sufferingmyself to be vanquished?"

"Who would not have been, in your place, my beloved Fabian?" said theCanadian, smiling. 

"I have broken my oath, my father!" continued Fabian; "I had promisednever to love any other but you. Pardon! pardon!"

"Child, who implores pardon, when it is I who should ask it?" saidBois-Rose; "you were more generous than I, Fabian. Never did a lionesssnatch her cub from the hands of the hunters, and carry it to her den, with a more savage love than I dragged you from the habitations of mento hide you in the desert. I was happy, because all my affections werecentred in you; and I believed that you might also be so. You did notmurmur; you sacrificed, unhesitatingly, all the treasures of youryouth--a thousand times more precious than those of the Golden Valley. I did not intend it should be so, and it is I who have been selfish, andnot generous, for if you had died of grief, I should have died also. "

"What do you mean?" cried Fabian. 

"What I say, child. Who watched over your slumbers during long nights, to hear from your lips the secret wishes of your heart? It was I, whodetermined to accompany to this spot, Gayferos, whom at yourintercession I saved from the hands of the Apaches. Who sent him toseek this beautiful and gracious lady, and learn if in her heart, shestill treasured your memory? It was I still, my child, for yourhappiness is a thousand times more precious than mine. Who persuadedyou to make this last trial? It was still I, my child, who knew thatyou must succumb to it. To-morrow I had said to you, I will accept yoursacrifice; but Gayferos had even then read the most secret pages of thislady's heart. Why do you ask my pardon, when I tell you it is I, whoshould ask yours?"

The Canadian, as he finished these words, opened his arms to Fabian, whoeagerly rushed into his embrace. 

"Oh, my father, " cried he, "so much happiness frightens me, for neverwas man happier than I. "

"Grief will come when God wills it, " said the Canadian, solemnly. 

"But you, what will become of you?" asked Fabian, anxiously. "Your losswill be to me the only bitterness in my full cup of joy. "

"As God wills, my child, " answered the Canadian. "It is true, I cannotlive in cities, but this dwelling, which will be yours, is on theborders of the desert. Does not infinity surround me here? I shallbuild with Pepe--Ho, Pepe, " said the hunter in a loud voice, "come andratify my promise. "

Pepe and Gayferos came forward at the hunter's summons. 

"I and Pepe, " he continued, "will build a hut of the trunks and bark oftrees upon the spot of ground where I found you again. We shall notalways be at home, it is true, but perhaps some time hence should youwish to claim the name and fortune of your ancestors in Spain, you willfind two friends ready to follow you to the end of the world. Come, myFabian, I have no doubt that I shall be even happier than you, for Ishall experience a double bliss in my happiness and yours. "

But why dwell longer upon such scenes? happiness is so transitory andimpalpable that it will not bear either analysis or description. 

"There remains but one obstacle now, " resumed the hunter. "This sweetlady's father. "

"To-morrow he will expect his son, " interrupted Rosarita, who stood by, listening with singular interest to the dialogue. 

"Then let me bless mine, " said the Canadian. 

Fabian knelt before the hunter. 

The latter removed his fur cap, and with moist eyes raised to the starryheavens, he said--

"Oh! my God! bless my son, and grant that his children may love him ashe has been loved by old Bois-Rose. "

The following day the illustrious Senator returned in sadness to Arispe. 

"I was sure, " he said, "that I should unceasingly mourn for poor DonEstevan. I might at least have possessed, besides my wife's marriageportion, a title of honour and half a million of money. It is certainlya great misfortune that poor Don Estevan is dead. "

Sometime afterwards a hut made of the bark and trunks of trees was builtin the forest glade so well-known to the reader. Often Fabian deMediana, accompanied by Rosarita, to whom he was now united by the holyties of marriage, performed a pilgrimage to the dwellers in the hut. 

Perhaps at a later period one of those pilgrimages might be undertakenwith the view of claiming the assistance of the two brave hunters in anexpedition to the Golden Valley or to the coast of Spain; but that is athing of the future. Let us for the present be content with saying, that if the happiness of this world is not a vain delusion, in truth itexists at the Hacienda del Venado, enjoyed by Fabian, Rosarita, and thebrave _Wood-Rangers_--Pepe and Bois-Rose. 

THE END.