Doña Rosarios look was so firm, her countenance so determined, that the Linda stopped.
"Well," Rosario resumed, with a smile of contempt, "you no longer triumph now; you are no longer certain of your vengeance; let the man you threaten me with dare to approach me, and I will plunge this dagger into my heart."
The Linda looked at her, but made no reply; she was conquered.
At that moment a great tumult was heard in the camp; hurried steps approached the toldo in which the two women were. The Linda resumed her seat, and composed her features. Doña Rosario, with a joyful smile, concealed the dagger.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
THE END OF DON RAMÓN'S JOURNEY.
In the meantime Don Ramón had left Valdivia. This time the senator was alone—alone with his horse, a poor, lean, half-foundered beast, which hobbled along with its head and ears down, and appeared in all points to harmonise with the sad thoughts which doubtless occupied its master's mind.
The future by no means appeared to him pleasant. He had left Valdivia under a threat of death; at every step he expected to be aimed at by some invisible gun. Being conscious that he could not impose upon the enemies, doubtless disseminated over his route, by any appearance of strength or power, he determined to impose upon them by his weakness—that is to say, he got rid of all his arms. At a few leagues distance from Valdivia he had been passed by Joan. Don Ramón watched him for a long time with a look of envy.
"What happy fellows these Indians are!" he grumbled; "the desert belongs to them. Ah!" he added, with a sigh; "if I were but at Casa Azul."