"Do you really love Doña Maria?"
At this question, which might seem, at the least, inopportune after what Leon had just stated, the latter frowned angrily; but on noticing the half-breed's serious face, he understood that it was not for the purpose of making a jest of his despair that Diego had revived the fire which was burning in his bosom.
"If I do not see her again, I shall die," the young man replied, simply.
"You shall not die, brother, for within a fortnight she will be at your knees."
Leon knew the half-breed, and that he was a man who never promised in vain: hence he did not dare doubt, and merely raised his eyes and questioned him with a look.
"Within a fortnight she will be at your knees," the half-breed slowly repeated; "but till then, not a word, not a sign of recollection, reproach, impatience, or amazement, but passive obedience."
"Thanks, brother," Leon contented himself with answering, as he held out his hand to Diego, who pressed it in his.
"And now let us sleep, so that tomorrow our foreheads may be less burning, and we may be able to set to work."
Then, putting out the candles, the two men threw themselves on their beds, without exchanging another word, for each was anxious to reflect upon the course he should pursue.
Neither slept: Leon thought of Maria and the means Diego might employ to fulfil the pledge he had made; while Diego had in his head a ready-traced plan, whose success appeared to him certain, as it was connected with a far more dangerous affair.