Valentine's mother knew that the Indians were accustomed to call her son thus; and she suddenly felt reassured by the man's smile, and the way in which he had spoken her son's name. She took the warrior by the arm, and dragged him to the grotto, at the entrance of which Father Seraphin was reading his breviary.
"Well!" he asked on seeing her, "What news?"
"This man could tell me nothing," she replied, "for I do not understand his language; but something assures me he brings good news."
"With your leave, I will question him."
"Do so, for I am anxious to know what I have to expect."
The missionary turned to the Indian, who stood motionless a few yards off, and had listened to the few words spoken.
"The brow of my brother, the Spider, is damp," he said; "let him take a place by my side and rest: he has had a long journey."
The Indian smiled gravely, and bowed respectfully to the missionary.
"The Spider is a chief in his tribe," he said in his guttural and yet melodious voice; "he can bound like the jaguar, and crawl like the serpent: nothing fatigues him."
"I know that my brother is a great warrior," the missionary answered: "his exploits are numerous, and the Apaches fly on seeing him. Has my brother met the young men of his tribe?"