At last the branches parted, and five persons appeared on the scene.
Of these five persons, four were men; two of them supported the tottering form of a woman, whom they almost carried in their arms. And, what was most wonderful in these regions, the strangers, whom it was easy to recognise as white men by their dress and the colour of their skin, had no horses with them.
They continued to advance without being aware of the presence of the unknown, who, still motionless, marked their approach with mingled pity and sadness.
Suddenly one of the strangers happened to lift his eyes.
"Praise be to God!" cried he, in Mexican, with lively satisfaction; "We are saved. Here is a human being at last."
The five stopped. The one who had first observed the unknown came rapidly towards him, and exclaimed, with a graceful inclination:
"Caballero, I entreat you to grant, what is seldom refused in the wilderness, aid and protection."
The unknown, before he replied, threw a searching look at the speaker.
The latter was a man of some fifty years; his manner was polished, his features noble, although his hair was growing white about his temples; his figure, upright and compact, had no more bent an inch, nor his black eyes lost a particle of their fire, than if he had been only thirty. His rich dress and the ease of his manner clearly proved him to belong to the highest grade of Mexican society.
"You have committed two grave errors in as many minutes, caballero," answered the unknown: "the first, in approaching me without precaution; the second, in demanding aid and protection without knowing who I am."