"Speak, señor," said the latter; "is there any further service I can render you?"
"No," replied the Mexican; "I owe you too many favours already; only, before I leave you, perhaps forever, I wish to tell you, without desiring to pry too closely into the motives which prompted your actions towards me, your conduct has apparently been so cordial and noble, that I must try to express to you the extent of my gratitude. Whatever may happen, señor, and until evident proof to the contrary, I consider myself indebted to you; and if occasion offers, I shall know how to cancel the debt I owe you."
And before the Tigercat, stupefied by this adieu, which proved that the hacendero was not quite his dupe, had recovered, the Mexican had given both spurs to his horse, and galloped off to rejoin his companions who had already advanced some little way.
The old man remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the travellers, until they had finally disappeared within the forest; then he regained the teocali, muttering in a low voice:
"Has he foreseen my purpose? No, it is impossible; but his suspicion is aroused, and I must have been less prudent than my wont."
In the meantime the travellers had entered upon the forest, under the guidance of Stoneheart, who rode alone in advance, with drooping head, and apparently plunged in sombre thought.
For two hours they progressed without exchanging a word. The hunter rode on as if he were alone, without troubling himself in the least about those who followed him; without even turning his head in their direction, to see whether they were behind him.
This behaviour only moderately astonished the hacendero, who, recollecting the manner in which he had made acquaintance with the hunter the day before, was expecting a certain oddness of character on his part. Nevertheless, he was hurt by the coldness and indifference displayed by the man whose good will he had sought to conciliate. So he made no attempt to engage him to break the silence and become more sociable.
A little before midday the travellers reached a tolerably large clearing, in the centre of which there gushed forth, from the fissures of a rock, which rose to a grand height in the form of a pyramid, a spring of water, as clear and limpid as crystal, which ran off in a narrow stream through thick tufts of gladiolus.
This clearing, shaded by a leafy vault of gigantic trees surrounding it, offered a delicious spot for repose to the weary travellers.