"These demons will be very valuable to you, master."
"I believe so, but they appear to me atrocious scoundrels; unhappily, in the circumstances in which I find myself, perhaps I shall be obliged some day or other to make use of their services."
The Guaraní smiled, without answering.
"Do you not consider the conduct of this Neno shabby, after so many kindnesses that I have done him?" pursued the painter.
"You do not yet know all that he has done, master."
"What do you mean?"
"It is he who has betrayed you, and who has sold your head to your enemies."
"You knew that!" cried the young man, with violence, "And you have brought this wretch with us? We are ruined, then!"
"Listen, master," coldly answered the Guaraní.
At this moment a cry of agony pierced the air. Although far off it had such an expression of anguish and of grief that the painter involuntarily trembled, and felt himself covered with a cold perspiration.