The Tigrero pointed to Don Sylva, who, having exhausted his strength and passion, had at length tacitly recognised his powerlessness, and was sleeping quite exhausted.
"Alas!" she said, "You are right. Things can not go on thus, my friend; the position is intolerable."
"If you will allow me to act as I think proper, before a quarter of an hour your father will thank me."
"Do you not know that I am entirely yours?"
"Thanks!" he said. Turning to Cucharés, he muttered a few words in his ear.
"Ah, ah! That is an idea," the lepero said with a grin. Two minutes later the canoe ran ashore. Don Sylva, delicately borne by two powerful hands, was carried ashore without waking.
"Now it is your turn," Don Martial said to the girl: "for the success of the scheme I have formed you must allow yourself to be fastened to this tree."
"Do so, my friend."
The Tigrero took her into his vigorous arms, bore her ashore and in a twinkling had fastened her tightly by the waist to the stem of a tree.
"Now," he said hurriedly, "remember this. Your father and yourself were carried off from the hacienda by the Apaches; accident brought us in your way, and—"