"Love is no longer permitted me," she said; "my heart is not even capacious enough for the hatred that devours it. I live only for vengeance. Believe me, Don Pablo, I will treat you honourably. When you are at length happy, and indebted to me for a small portion of the happiness you enjoy, perhaps you will feel a little friendship and gratitude for me. Alas! It is the only feeling I desire now; I am one of those wretched, condemned creatures, who hurled involuntarily into an abyss, cannot check their downward progress. Pity me, Don Pablo, but dismiss all fear; for, I repeat to you, you have not and never will have a more devoted friend than myself."
The girl pronounced these words with such an accent of sincerity, it was so plain that the heart alone spoke, and that the sacrifice was consummated without any after-thought, that Don Pablo felt affected by such abnegation. By an irresistible impulse, he offered her his hand; she pressed it warmly, wiped away a tear, and then banished every trace of emotion.
"Now," she said, "not a word more: we understand one another, I think?"
"Oh, yes," he answered, gladly.
"Let us cross the stream," she said, with a smile; "in half an hour we shall reach the camp; no one must know what has passed between us."
They soon reached Bloodson's camp, where they were received with shouts of pleasure and welcome; they galloped through it and stopped before the ranger's hut, who had come out, aroused by the shouts, and was awaiting. The reception was cordial, and after the first compliments, White Gazelle explained to her uncle the result of her mission and what had occurred in Unicorn's camp while she was there.
"That Red Cedar is a perfect demon," he answered; "I alone have the means in my hands to capture him."
"In what way?" Don Pablo asked.
"You shall see," he said.
Without further explanation, he raised a silver whistle to his lips, and blew a clear and long note. At this summons, the buffalo-hide curtain of the hut was raised from without, and a man appeared, in whom Don Pablo recognised Andrés Garote. The gambusino bowed with that politeness peculiar to Mexicans, and fixed his small grey and intelligent eyes on Bloodson.