"Not yet," Brighteye answered.
The hunter's accent was so gloomy, his face so mournful, that the Mexican gentleman was struck with terror. "Oh, you have killed him!" he muttered.
"No," Brighteye answered, drily, "he must die by his own hand. He will kill himself."
"Oh! that is horrible! In Heaven's name tell me all; I prefer the truth, however fearful it may be, to this frightful uncertainty."
"Why describe the same to you? You will know all the details only too well presently."
"Very good," Don Mariano answered, resolutely, as he stopped his horse; "I know what is left me to do."
Brighteye looked at him in a very peculiar manner, and laid his hand on his bridle. "Take care," he said, drily, "not to let yourself be carried away by the first impulse, which is always unreflecting, and regret presently what you have done tonight."
"Still, I cannot let my brother perish," he exclaimed; "I should be a fratricide."
"No! for he has been justly condemned. You were only the instrument Divine Justice employed to punish a criminal."
"Oh! your spurious arguments will not convince me, my master. If, in a moment of passion and senseless hatred, I forgot the ties that attached me to that unhappy man, now that I see and understand all the horror of my action, I will repair the evil I have done."