A few moments passed, during which the Pirate seemed painfully collecting his thoughts before speaking. White Gazelle, with her eyes fixed on him, waited with anxious curiosity.
At length, the bandit seized the gourd, raised it to his lips a second time, and after drinking heartily, replaced it by his side. A feverish flush immediately spread over his cheeks, his eyes grew brighter, and he said, in a firmer voice than might have been expected—
"Listen to me attentively, child, and profit by what you are about to hear. I am dying and men do not lie at such a moment. The words I shall utter are true. You well know me."
He stopped for some seconds, and then continued with an effort—
"I have not always been a pirate of the prairies, or tiger with a human face—one of those wretches whom it is permissible to hunt like wild beasts. No! there was a time when I was young, handsome, and rich; at that remote period I was called Walter Stapleton, and was so rich that I did not know the amount of my fortune. Like everyone else you fancied me a Spaniard, and have been equally deceived—I am a citizen of the United States, descended from an old puritan family, long settled at New York. My parents died before I was twenty years of age; master of an immense fortune, I had become connected with all the scamps in the city; two especially became my intimate friends, and succeeded in a short time in getting such a hold on me, that I only acted on their impulses and by their suggestions. One of them was born in New York like myself, the other was a Mexican. Both were, like myself, young, good-looking, and rich, or, at least, they appeared so, for they squandered enormous sums. Their names were—but why tell you them?" he added, "I am not speaking of them here, but only of myself. One day the Mexican came to me with a letter in his hand; his family called him home, for he was to enter the church; but he would not, or, at least, could not leave New York at the moment. I never knew the reason; but one month later we were all three compelled to seek a refuge in Mexico, after a mournful tragedy, in which my two friends played the chief part, leaving behind them a trail of blood. I repeat to you that I never learned the circumstances."
At this moment a rustling was audible in the bushes against which the bandit was leaning; but the Gazelle, overcome by the increasing interest of the story, did not notice it. There was an interruption for some minutes. Pedro Sandoval was growing perceptibly weaker.
"I must finish, however," he said; and making an effort, he continued: —"We were at Mexico, where we lived nobly. In a short time I gained the reputation of a finished gentleman. A great gambler, and adored by women, shall I repeat to you the follies and extravagances that filled my days? What good would it be? Suffice it for you to know that I deserved this reputation in every respect. One day, a stranger arrived in Mexico. He was, it was said, a caballero from an upcountry province, enormously rich, and travelling for his pleasure. This man in a short time displayed such recklessness, that his reputation soon equalled and even surpassed mine. I, who had always been the first in every wild scheme, was placed in the second rank. My friends laughed at the sudden change effected, and by this incessant raillery augmented my anger and detestation of this Don Pacheco de Tudela, as the man was called. Several times already we had met face to face at the tertulias, and each time our glances crossed like sword blades. I comprehended that this man hated me. For my part, a dull jealousy devoured me when his name was mentioned in my presence.
"A crisis was imminent, and we both sought it. One evening, when we were both at the tertulia of the Governor of Arispe, a game of monte was arranged. You know that game, which is the ruling passion of the Mexicans. I had held the bank for some hours, and an incredible run of luck had made me gain immense sums, which were piled up before me, and covered nearly the whole of the table. The gamblers, terrified by this constant good luck, retired in terror. I was about to collect and send off my money, when I heard a few paces from me Don Pacheco saying ironically to a party of friends:—'I am not jealous of señor Stapleton's good luck. I have allowed him to win that he may repair his ruined fortune, and stop the cries of his creditors, who have been yelping for a long time at his heels.'
"These words wounded me the more because they were true. My fortune, mortgaged beyond its value, only existed on paper, and numerous creditors incessantly pursued me. I walked up to Don Pacheco, and looked him boldly in the face.
"'To prove to you that I do not fear losing,' I said to him, 'I offer to stake on one hand with you all it has taken me so many hours to win.'