"Now, brother, good-bye," he said, "and may you be fortunate."
The two men remained for a long time in an affectionate embrace. Louis knew the hunter too well, to try and induce him to take a few hours' rest; he, therefore, accompanied him to the gate, where the four men exchanged a parting greeting, and, at a sign from Valentine, the horses started at full speed. They soon disappeared in the darkness, but the sound of their horses' hoofs re-echoed for a long time on the hardened soil. Louis remained motionless in the gateway, so long as the slightest sound reached his ear, and then went in again, murmuring:—
"A man must be accursed who does not succeed, with such devoted friends."
The count worked through the whole night, not thinking of taking a moment's rest. The sun was already high on the horizon, and he still remained bent over the table, writing figures after figures. The door opened; and the person we saw talking confidentially with the count on the previous evening entered. Louis started at the noise, but on recognising his visitor a smile played over his stern countenance.
"You are welcome, consul," he said gaily, as he offered him his hand; "you could not have arrived at a better moment. Have you come to breakfast?"
"Yes, my dear count; for I wish to talk seriously with you."
"All the better, for I shall keep you the longer. Take a chair, and pardon my being surprised in this state, but I have spent the night in arranging these documents. Deuce take the man who invented writing and accounts."
The consul, for the gentleman was no other than the French representative in California, sat down, smiling; and, by the count's orders, an appetising breakfast was served almost immediately. The two gentlemen sat down opposite each other, and began a vigorous attack on the dishes.
"Well," Louis said presently, "any news?"
"Bad."