"Then my position becomes extremely delicate; I do not know what to do."
"I have thought of that for you, master; we Indians form a population apart in the town. Disliked by the Spaniards, scorned by the Creoles, we sustain one another, in order to be in a position, in case of need, to resist the injustice they may design to do us. Since I have occupied myself with preparations for your journey, I have communicated with several men of my tribe, engaged in the families of certain persons in the town, in order to be informed of all that passes, and to warn you against treachery. I knew yesterday evening that the Spanish officers were going to escape today at the rising of the sun. For several days, aided by their friends, they have planned their flight."
"I do not yet see," interrupted the painter, "what relation there is between this flight and anything which concerns me personally."
"Wait, master," pursued the Indian, "I am coming to that. This morning, after having aided you to disguise yourself, I followed you and entered the town. The news of the flight of the officers was already known —everybody was talking of it. I mixed myself in several groups, where this flight was commented on in a hundred different ways. Your name was in every mouth."
"But I knew nothing of this flight."
"I know it well, master; but you are a stranger—that is enough for them to accuse you—so much the more as you have an enemy determined on your ruin who has spread abroad this report, and given it consistency."
"An enemy!—I!" said the young man, astounded; "It is impossible!"
The Indian smiled, sarcastically.
"Soon you will know it, master," said he; "but it is useless to occupy ourselves with him at this moment; it is you we must think of—you that we must save."
The young man shook his head sadly.