The entire night was passed away without the marquis quitting the position he had taken, and without his eyes closing for a single instant.
The plan, rough and incomplete as it appeared to be, was that of the diamond country, which concealed those incalculable riches so ardently coveted by the young man.
But this plan—made from memory a long time after having seen the country, and that in superficial manner, by an ignorant man—could unluckily only be a feeble aid to the marquis. He felt it in spite of himself, and this certainty redoubled his fury.
But what could be done with a woman more than he had done with doña Laura? How was he to vanquish her resistance, and constrain her to speak?
For more than three hours the sun had already risen; the marquis, still plunged in his thoughts, had not appeared to perceive the return of the light, when the gallop of a horse which approached rapidly, caused him suddenly to raise his head.
At the same instant the curtain of the tent was withdrawn, and the captain entered.
The Indian was covered with dust; his flushed features, and his forehead covered with perspiration, showed the velocity of his journey.
"Ah, it is you, Diogo!" cried the marquis on perceiving him. "Welcome, what news?"
"Nothing, my lord," answered the captain.
"How nothing? Have you not been able to succeed in discovering the track of that Malco?"