"My story will be short, Don Sylva; but you, I believe, will find it very interesting. But you shall judge for yourself. After leaving you last night, as you remember, to find out—"
"Yes, you wished to examine a fire that seemed to you suspicious."
"That was it. Well, I was not mistaken: that fire, as I supposed, was a snare laid by the Apaches. I managed to crawl up to them unnoticed, and hear their conversation. Do you know what they said?"
"By my faith, I have little notion what such idiots as those talk about."
"Not such idiots as you fancy somewhat lightly, Don Sylva. One of their runners was telling the sachem the result of a mission entrusted to him. Among other things he mentioned that he had discovered a paleface trail, and that among the palefaces was a woman."
"Caspita!" the hacendero exclaimed in terror, "Are you quite sure of that, Don Martial?"
"The more so because I heard the chief make this reply. Be attentive, Don Sylva—"
"I am listening, my friend: go on."
"'At sunrise we will set out in pursuit of the palefaces. The chief's lodge is empty: he wants a white woman to occupy it.'"
"Caramba!"