"Yes, señor."
"Tell it me."
"Not yet. This man returned her love. The two young people met without Don Sylva's knowledge, and swore an eternal love. When Doña Anita was constrained by her father to regard you as her husband she feigned submission, for she did not dare openly to resist her father; but she warned the man she loved, and the couple, after renewing their love vows, thought on a way to break off this fatal marriage."
The count had risen several moments back, and was now pacing the room. At the last words he stopped before the stranger.
"Then," he said in a gloomy voice, "the attempted assassination at the Rancho—"
"Was a means employed by the lover to get rid of you? Yes, señor," the stranger calmly said.
"This man, then, is only a dastardly assassin!" he said contemptuously.
"You are wrong, caballero; he only wished to compel you to retire. The proof is that your life was in his hands and he did not take it."
"To the point, then!" the count exclaimed. "Assassin or not, you will tell me his name, for you have finished now, I suppose?"
"Not yet. After the meeting at the Rancho you proceeded to your hacienda, accompanied by your future father-in-law and wife. Even then, without leaving you a moment's rest, the hatred of Doña Anita's lover pursued you: the Apaches attacked you.