"Now," he said, "we have nothing more to fear. When we have crossed that wood, which stretches out in front of us like a curtain of verdure, we shall see the Port of San Miguel, whose walls will offer us a certain shelter against the attacks of all the bandits of the desert, were there ten thousand of them."
"Last night I fancy that you spoke to me of a more distant post," Don Ruiz said.
"Yes; for I fancied San Miguel abandoned, if not in ruins. Before I gave you what might prove a fallacious hope, I wished to assure myself of the truth of the case."
"Do you believe that the Commandant will consent to receive us?" the young lady asked.
"Certainly, Señorita, for a thousand reasons. In the first place, the frontier posts are only established for the purpose of watching over the safety of travellers; and then, again, San Miguel is commanded by one of your relations—or, at any rate, an intimate friend of your family."
The young people looked at each other in surprise.
"Do you know this Commandant's name?" Don Ruiz asked.
"I was told it: he is Don Marcos de Niza."
"Oh!" Doña Mariana exclaimed, joyfully; "I should think we do know him: Don Marcos is a cousin of ours."
"In that case, all is for the best," the hunter answered, coldly. "Let us continue our journey; for there is a cloud of dust behind us that forebodes us no good, if it reaches us before we have entered the post."