Valentine urged his horse into the middle of the circle, and shouted—
"Stop a minute!"
At the unexpected appearance of this man, whom nobody had yet observed, all turned round and looked at him with astonishment. Louis, with his hands on his pistols, watched his movements with anxiety, ready to fly to his succour, if he needed it.
"We will not joke," continued Valentine, "we have not time for that. You are a set of fools, and your machi is laughing at you. What! would you kill a man without a moment's reflection, because a rogue bids you do so? Caramba! I have taken it into my head to prevent your committing such a folly—I will do it, too!"
And placing his hand upon his hip, he looked round with an intrepid glance. The Indians, according to their strange custom, listened to this speech without evincing surprise, even by a gesture. Curumilla approached him.
"My pale brother must retire," he said, calmly; "he is unacquainted with the laws of the Puelches; this man is condemned, he must die; the machi has pointed him out as a murderer."
"I repeat to you, you are fools!" said Valentine shrugging his shoulders; "your machi is no more a conjurer than I am; I again tell you, he is cheating you, and I will prove it, if you will let me."
"What says my father?" said Curumilla to the machi, who stood cold and motionless by the side of the body.
The machi smiled disdainfully.
"When did the white man ever speak truth?" he replied, with a sneer. "Let this one prove what he asserts, if he is able."