"Alas!" the poor woman murmured, "I have lived for twenty years in continual agony, every night dreading not to see my son on the morrow; my God! will you not then have pity on me!"
"Have comfort, dear señora," said Doña Luz, affectionately, and with a gentle kiss: "Oh! I know that if Loyal Heart at this moment be in danger, it is to save my poor uncle; my God!" she added, fervently, "grant that he may succeed!"
"All will soon be cleared up, ladies, be assured by me, and you know I would not deceive you."
"Yes," said the old lady, "you are good, you love my son, and you would not be here if he had anything to dread."
"You judge me rightly, señora, and I thank you for it. I cannot, at the present moment, tell you anything, but I implore you to have a little patience; let it suffice for you to know that he is labouring to render the señorita happy."
"Oh! yes," said the mother, "always good, always devoted!"
"And therefore was he named Loyal Heart," the maiden murmured, with a blush.
"And never was name better merited," the hunter exclaimed proudly. "A man must have lived a long time with him, and know him as well as I know him, in order to appreciate him properly."
"Thanks, in my turn, for all you say of my son, Belhumeur," the old lady replied, pressing the callous hand of the hunter.
"I speak nothing but the truth, señora; I am only just, that is all. Oh! things would go on well in the prairies if all hunters were like him."