"If he is not asleep, how is it that he is ignorant the hour has arrived when I am to take his place?" the young man continued.
"Is it so late? I have not heard the hoot of the owl."
"Yet it has been sounded twice. Good, my brother is tired; let him go and sleep, while I watch in his stead."
The Indian had no reason to doubt what Don Melchior said to him. Besides, he was really desirous of sleep, and was not sorry to catch up a few hours' rest. Hence he made no remark, but quietly surrendered his post, and five minutes later was lying by the side of his comrades fast asleep.
This last alarm had been serious, although Don Melchior had bravely gone through with it. Still his agitation was so great, partly to regain his coolness, he remained quiet for nearly a quarter of an hour before he ventured to enter the prisoners' room. At length he did so. Doña Emilia, seated in a corner, was holding her daughter's head on her lap.
"Who's there?" she asked, with a sudden start.
"A friend," the young man answered in a low voice. Doña Diana sprang up.
"Don Melchior!" she cried.
"Silence," he said, "silence, in heaven's name."
"Oh! I was certain he would come," the young lady continued, as she walked towards him.