"What! free?" Don Louis exclaimed.
"There must be something in the background," the hunter remarked. "Why did you give him his liberty?"
Curumilla drew his knife from his waist belt, and the blade was red with blood.
"You need no longer fear him," he said.
"You have not killed him?" the three exclaimed simultaneously.
"No," he said. "He is dumb and blind."
"Oh!" they said with a gesture of horror.
Curumilla had simply scooped out Don Cornelio's eyes with his scalping knife, and torn out his tongue; then he led him to the other end of the town, and abandoned him to his fate. Valentine and Don Louis considered it useless to address any reproaches to the chief, which could not repair the evil, and which, indeed, the Araucano would not have understood; consequently they refrained from any observation.
Doña Angela, in spite of the count's entreaties, would not consent to him accompanying her on her return home. She withdrew, after whispering in his ear the parting recommendation,—
"Take heed of tomorrow, Don Louis."