"What is to be done? Unluckily, I can only offer him sterile consolation. But I have it," he said, striking his forehead, "that is the very thing. ¡Viva Cristo! if Don Aníbal does not succeed in saving his hapless wife and daughter, he will at any rate be able to catch the scoundrels who carried them off, and sacrifice them to his righteous wrath."
"Ah," said the Canadian, "in what way? I do not know, General, especially as I fear lest the misfortune is greater than you imagine."
"How so; what do you mean, Don Oliver?"
The Canadian reflected for a moment. A strange emotion agitated this brave man, and an expression of vexation, repentance, and timidity appeared on his frank and manly face. The general examined him with surprise.
"Come," he said to him, "speak. I know not why, but I fancy I have still the most frightful part of this frightful story to hear."
"You may be right, General," the Canadian said in a low and almost unintelligible voice.
"Speak; in heaven's name tell me all."
"Nonsense," the adventurer said, "my repentance has been quite enough for me to open my heart to you. General, I have committed one bad action in my life."
"You, my friend?" Don Pelagio exclaimed quickly, "That is impossible."
"Thanks for that remark, General. The opinion you have of me, restores me the courage to complete my confession. Yes, I repeat, I have committed one bad action, the memory of which has incessantly pursued me and filled me with remorse. One day I was a coward."