"Ah! That is true. On the twenty-fifth day from this, at sunset, I will enter your room."
"But I do not know myself yet where I shall lodge."
"Do not let that trouble you; I shall find out."
"So, then, at sunset of the twenty-fifth day?"
"Yes, I will arrive with the treasure ships," Valentine replied with a laugh.
"Thanks, brother; you are my good genius. If my life has had a few blemishes, you are preparing me a glorious death to expiate them."
"Pity yourself, pray! I am going to make of you a Francisco Pizarro and an Almagro."
The two men shook hands affectionately, while exchanging a sorrowful smile. After a few more unimportant remarks, they threw themselves on their beds, where they soon fell asleep, overpowered as they were by fatigue.