[CHAPTER XVIII.]
A VISIT.
The mirror room was an immense apartment, only separated from the covered gallery by two anterooms. It was furnished with princely luxury, and it was here that the general gave those sumptuous tertulias, which are still talked about in the highest Mexican circles, although so many years have elapsed.
This room, merely lighted by two lamps, standing on a console, was at this moment plunged into a semi-obscurity, when compared with the other apartments in the mansion, which were full of light.
A gentleman, dressed in full black, and with the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour carelessly knotted in a buttonhole of his coat, was leaning his elbow on the console where the lamps stood, and seemed so lost in thought, that, when the general entered the room, the sound of his steps, half subdued by the petates, did not reach the visitor's ears, and he did not turn to receive him.
Don Sebastian, after closing the door behind him, walked towards his visitor, attempting to recognize him, which, however, the stranger's position rendered temporarily impossible. It was not till he came almost near enough to touch him that the stranger, at length warned of the general's presence, raised his head; in spite of all the command Don Sebastian had over himself, he started and fell back a couple of yards on recognizing him.
"Don Valentine!" he said, in a stifled voice, "you here?"
"Myself, general," he replied, with an almost imperceptible smile and a profound bow; "did you not expect a visit from me?"
The Trail-hunter, according to his habit, at once assumed his position before his adversary. A bitter smile played round the general's pale lips, and mastering his emotion, he replied, sarcastically—