"Pardon, my lord," pursued the Indian; "before you give orders for the march, I have some important information to submit to you."
"To me!" cried the marquis, looking at him with surprise.
"To you, my lord," coldly answered the Indian.
"Is it a new treason by which I am threatened?" pursued he, with a bitter smile; "And do you wish to abandon me—you also, Don Diogo?"
"You are doubly unjust to me, my lord," sharply answered the Indian; "I have no intention of abandoning you."
"If I am wrong, which is possible, excuse me, Don Diogo; and let us come to business, I beg you. Time flies."
"Some minutes more or less do not matter, my lord; we shall arrive quickly enough where we are going."
"What do you wish to say—explain yourself."
"What I have already had the honour to say to you this morning, my lord, that not one of us will return from this expedition."
The marquis made a gesture of impatience—