"That is true, that is true," the Tigrero exclaimed in despair, and burying his face in his hands, he remained motionless, as if suddenly struck by lightning.
There was a lengthened silence, during which nothing was audible but the choking sobs that burst from Don Martial's heaving chest. It was a heartrending sight to see this strong, brave man so tried by adversity, now conquered and almost crushed by despair, and weeping like a frightened child.
The capataz, with his arms crossed on his chest, pale forehead and eyebrows contracted almost till they met, looked at him with an expression of gentle and sympathizing pity.
"Don Martial," he at length said, in a sharp and imperative voice.
"What do you want with me?" the Tigrero asked, looking up with surprise.
"I want you to listen to me, for I have not said all yet."
"What more can you have to tell me?" the other asked sadly.
"Arouse yourself like the man you are, instead of remaining any longer crushed beneath the pressure of despair, like a child or a weak woman. Is there no hope left in your heart?"
"Did you not tell me that this man had an implacable will which nothing could resist?"
"I did say so, I allow; but is that a reason for giving up the struggle? Do you suppose him invulnerable?"