"Yes, yes, one more," the dying man said, in an almost unintelligible voice.
Don Stefano bent over his brother in order to hear more distinctly.
"Who? Tell me—brother, speak in Heaven's name!"
The wounded man made a supreme effort.
"There was another man, formerly a peon of ours."
"His name?" Don Stefano asked eagerly.
Don Pacheco was growing weaker, his face had assumed an earthy hue, and his eyes could no longer distinguish objects.
"I cannot remember," he sighed rather than said.
"One word, only one, brother."
"Yes, listen—it is Sand—ah!"