"What do I care?" he said; "It is too late now."
Sandoval heard him.
"Perhaps so," he replied; "Heaven alone knows."
"We shall see," the squatter retorted, sarcastically.
He made a signal; the Apaches retired silently with him, and the girl remained alone near the dying man.
White Gazelle was a prey to an extraordinary emotion, for which she could not account; she experienced a curiosity mingled with terror, that caused her a strange oppression and trouble. She regarded the man lying half dead at her feet, and who while writhing in atrocious pain, fixed on her a glance full of indescribable pity and irony.
She feared, and yet desired that the bandit should make to her the gloomy confession she expected. Something told her that on this man her life and future fortune depended. But he remained gloomy and dumb.