"It is very late now to undertake such a search," Don Miguel observed.
The two hunters smiled, as they exchanged a significant glance. "Very late for you, certainly, who do not possess the key of the desert," Brighteye replied; "but with us it is different."
"Yes," Marksman supported him: "let us only find a trace of their passage, however light it may be—a footstep on the damp sand, so as to hold one end of their trail—that will be enough to reach the other, and we shall give a good account of these strangers, whose conduct, as Brighteye observed very truly, is too strange and too fine to be honest."
"Oh! why cannot I follow you?" Don Miguel exclaimed, regretfully.
"Get well first; then, I am certain, your part will begin; for, before three days, we shall bring you all the information you want today, and without which you can effect nothing."
"So you promise me that in three days—"
"Yes, in three days we shall return from our expedition. Trust to our promise, and nurse yourself, so as to be able to begin the campaign at once."
"I shall be ready."
"So, now, good-bye! the sun is already high in the heavens; we have not a moment to lose."
"Good-bye, and good luck!"