"Oh! this very day; I am only waiting for Curumilla, whom I have requested to go and procure horses. As soon as he returns we will start.
"And we will return to the toldería of the tribe of the Great Hare, where we can live happily."
"That is a good idea; in that way our existence will not be a useless one, since we can contribute to the happiness of those around us. And who knows?" Valentine added, smiling—"we may perhaps, become great warriors in Araucania."
Louis's only reply to this pleasantry was a sigh, which did not escape the notice of his friend.
"Oh!" Valentine murmured, "he must and shall be happy in spite of himself."
Curumilla and Trangoil-Lanec appeared in the distance amidst a cloud of dust, galloping towards the hacienda with several horses. The two young men rose to go and meet them.
Scarcely had they left the little grove when Doña Rosario put aside some low branches and came out. She paused thoughtfully for a minute, looking after the two Frenchmen, who were walking away sad and gloomy; then suddenly raising her head with a saucy air, her blue eye brightened, a smile stole over her lips, and she murmured with a pretty nod of her head—
"Hum! ah!—we shall see!"
Then she returned to the hacienda, bounding along like a frightened antelope.
Every morning at eight o'clock, in Spanish-American countries, the bells ring, to assemble at the same table the inhabitants of the hacienda—rom the owner who sits in the centre to the humblest peon who places himself modestly at the lower end. The breakfast is the hour chosen to meet each other and to pay the compliments of the morning, previous to commencing the rough labours of the day.