"After all," he muttered to himself, while going over the chaos of thoughts that jostled each other in his brain, "it is perhaps better that she should not see Louis. Who knows what might be the result of such an interview? The lady's father is governor of Sonora, and we must be most careful not to get into any trouble with him. Who knows whether we may not need him hereafter? It is strange, I do not know where I have heard his name before; but I am certain I do not hear it today for the first time. Guerrero—Don Sebastian Guerrero. Under what circumstances can that name have been pronounced in my presence?"
The hunter had reached this point in his monologue when the door opened gently, and a man entered. It was Curumilla. Valentine started with joy on seeing him.
"You are welcome, chief," he said.
The Araucanian pressed his hand, and sat down silently by his side.
"Well, chief," Valentine continued, "you are awake. Have you been taking a turn in the pueblo?"
The Indian smiled disdainfully.
"No," he said.
An idea crossed the hunter's mind.
"My brother should go down into the patio," he said. "It seems there are other travellers beside us: he should see them."
"Curumilla has seen them."