"Not at all, father; in spite of his violent character, he seems to me a noble-hearted man—the more so, because he possesses your esteem, which is the most powerful reason with me; still it grieves me to see two men opposed who, I feel convinced, if they knew each other, would become fast friends, and I do not wish blood to be shed between them."
These words were uttered by the maiden with such simple frankness, that for some moments the Canadian remained completely stunned; the slight gleam of light he fancied he had found suddenly deserted him again, though it was impossible for him to say in what manner it had disappeared; he neither understood Doña Carmela's behaviour, nor the motives on which she acted—the more so, because he had no reason to doubt the good faith in all she had told him.
After looking attentively at the maiden for some minutes, he shook his head twice or thrice like a man completely at sea, and without adding a word, proceeded to arouse his comrades.
Tranquil was one of the most experienced wood-rangers in North America; all the secrets of the desert were known to him, but he was ignorant of the first word of that mystery which is called a woman's heart. A mystery the more difficult to fathom, because women themselves are nearly always ignorant of it; for they only act under the impression of the moment, under the influence of passion, and without premeditation.
In a few words the Canadian explained his plans to his comrades: the latter, as he anticipated, did not offer the slightest objection, but prepared to follow him.
Ten minutes later they mounted and left their bivouac under the guidance of Lanzi.
At the moment when they disappeared in the forest, the owl uttered its matutinal cry, the precursor of sunrise.
"Oh, Heavens!" the maiden murmured in agony; "Shall we arrive in time?"