"Who can tell, father?" said the girl shrewdly; "It may be he is gone to do us some further service."
"At all events, señorita," resumed the capataz, "I see one thing very clearly, which is, that if this man does not come back again, our position is still more frightful than it was yesterday, for then we had our rifles. Today we are completely without weapons, and incapable of defending ourselves if attacked by man or beast."
"It is too true," cried the hacendero, turning pale; "our arms were taken from us while we slept. I never thought of them before. What can be the meaning of all this? Have we again fallen into a snare, and is this man really a traitor?"
"No, my father," replied the girl, with spirit; "he is innocent; I am sure of it. You will soon acknowledge the injustice of your suspicions."
"God grant it!" said Don Pedro, with a sigh.
At this moment a sharp and prolonged whistle was heard at a distance. At the sound the hunter's horse, which had been browsing peaceably, pricked up his ears, and darting in the direction whence the whistle was heard, gave a neigh of pleasure, and galloped off into the forest.
"What did I tell you, señorita?" cried the capataz. "Do you believe me now?"
"No," she replied energetically; "I do not believe this man to be a traitor. Strong as appearances may be against him, you will soon see the injustice of your suspicions."
"For this once, my daughter, I concur with Don Luciano; it is evident that, for reasons of his own the miscreant has abandoned us."
His daughter shook her head, but said nothing.