"In truth, that is the most simple," Valentine said in confirmation.
"Yes," Don Rafaël remarked; "the count can only be pleased with that course."
"Come, let us carry out the plan without further delay," Belhumeur continued. "While Black Elk and myself make all the preparations for the journey, do you, Loyal Heart, go and inform Doña Angela of the determination we have come to."
"Do so, and, above all, make haste," Valentine said. "I do not know why, but I should have liked to be off already."
Without further words they separated, and the hunter remained alone. In spite of himself Valentine was a prey to the most poignant uneasiness. He walked in agitation up and down the room, stopping at times to listen or look out of the windows, as if he expected to see an enemy rise. At length, no longer able to endure the uncertainty, he went out.
The two hunters were busily engaged in lassoing horses and saddling them, while the peons were bringing in mules to carry the baggage. Valentine felt his disquietude augmented with every moment. He helped his comrades with feverish impatience, and urged each to make haste. An hour passed away. All was then ready, and they only awaited Doña Angela, who arrived, accompanied by Doña Luz and Don Rafaël.
"At last!" Valentine exclaimed. "To horse, to horse! Let us start at once!"
"Let us go," his friends repeated.
Each mounted; but suddenly a great noise was heard outside, and Curumilla appeared with agitated features, and panting violently.
"Fly, fly!" he shouted; "they are coming."