"My father," the count said, "I shall expect you at La Magdalena."
"I shall be there, sir," Father Seraphin replied sadly, "for I foresee that there will be tears to dry up."
"Good-by, sir," the general said.
"Good-by till we meet again," the count answered with a bow.
The general and the missionary then mounted and set out, escorted by a strong detachment of adventurers, who were to accompany them through the outposts and pickets of the French company. The count looked after them for a long time, and then walked back slowly to his room.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
LA MAGDALENA.
The village of La Magdalena occupies an important military position, for it commands the three roads that lead to Ures, Hermosillo, and Sonora, the chief cities of the State, and is nearly at an equal distance from all three. This pueblo, in itself of but slight consideration, enjoys, however, a certain reputation in the country, owing to the beauty of its situation and the purity of the air breathed there.
La Magdalena forms a species of parallelogram, one side of which carelessly mirrors its white houses in the limpid waters of the Rio San Pedro, a confluent of the Gila. Dense woods of palma Christi, styrax, Peru trees, and mahogany form an insurmountable barrier against the burning winds of the desert, while refreshing and perfuming the atmosphere, and serve as a refuge for thousands of blue jays, cardinals, and loros, which chatter gaily under the foliage, and enliven the enchanting landscape—this ravishing oasis, placed there by the hand of nature, as if to make the traveller returning from the prairie forget the sufferings and fatigues of the desert.