"The die is cast!" Valentine exclaimed. "May Heaven keep you, gentlemen!"
"Forward!" Don Miguel commanded.
"Forward!" General Ibañez shouted, as he rushed in the opposite direction.
Valentine looked after his departing friends. Their black outlines were soon blended with the darkness, and then the footfalls of their horses died out in the night. Valentine gave a sigh and raised his head.
"God will protect them," he murmured; then turning to the two young people, "Come on, children," he said.
They started, and for some minutes kept silence. Valentine was too busy in thought to address his companions; and yet Doña Clara and Don Pablo, whose curiosity was excited to the highest pitch, were burning to question him. At length the girl, by whose side the hunter marched with that quick step which easily keeps up with a horse, bent down to him.
"My friend," she said to him in her soft voice, "what is taking place? Why has my father left us, instead of coming to his house?"
"Yes," Don Pablo added, "he seemed agitated when he parted from us. His voice was stern, his words sharp. What is happening, my friend? Why did not my father consent to my accompanying him?"
Valentine hesitated to answer.
"I implore you, my friend," Doña Clara continued, "do not leave us in this mortal anxiety. The announcement of a misfortune would certainly cause us less pain than the perplexity in which we are."