"Forgive me, señorita, forgive me," he said, as soon as he opened his eyes again and perceived her, "I could not save him; my strength deserted me."
"I have nothing to forgive you, Don Blas," the young lady answered, who had learnt the facts from Pedrito; "on the contrary, my friend, I thank you for your devotion. One word, however, when you fell was Don Sylvio still fighting by your side?"
"Yes, señorita."
"Then it was only after your fall that he succumbed to the numbers?"
"No; Don Sylvio is not dead."
"What makes you suppose that?"
"A very simple thing: had he been killed, his body would have been found lying by my side. What interest could the assassins have in concealing a corpse, when they left seven lying in the middle of the road? If they wished to hide their crimes, a hole is soon dug in the sand."
"That is true," Doña Concha murmured, "he still lives; but do you know the author of the crime?"
"Yes, señorita."
"And—"