"Wretch that I am, I have killed her—Mercedés, my beloved child, come to yourself!"
The girl opened her eyes again, and threw herself on Bloodson's neck, weeping with joy.
"Oh, my uncle! My uncle! I have a family at last, then. Thank God!" The hunter's face became grave.
"You are right, child," he said, "thank God, for it is He who has done everything, and who decreed that I should find you again on the tomb of those whom we have both been lamenting for so many years."
"What do you mean, uncle?" she asked, in surprise.
"Follow me, girl," the wood ranger replied; "follow me, and you shall know."
The girl rose with difficulty, leant on his arm, and followed him. By the accent of Don Stefano's voice, Mercedés understood that her uncle had an important revelation to make her. They found some difficulty in walking through the ruins, obstructed with grass and creepers, but at length reached the cross, where Bloodson stopped.
"On your knees, Mercedés," he said in a mournful voice; "on this spot your father and mother were buried by me fifteen years ago, on such a night as this."
The girl fell on her knees without replying, and Don Stefano imitated her. Both prayed for a long time with tears and sobs, and then they rose again. Bloodson made his niece a sign to sit down at the foot of the cross, placed himself by her, an after passing his hand over his forehead as if to collect his thoughts, he spoke in a dull voice, with an accent which, in spite of all his resolution, sorrow caused to tremble.
"Listen to me, child," he said, "for what you are about to hear will perhaps help us to find the murderers of your parents, if they still live."