Max observed that they did not shake hands. The hatred that existed between them was so mutual and so strong, that even the fact that, in all human probability, they would never see each other again, was not sufficient to make them part friends. Then came Max's turn. He shook hands with Antonio and Diego, and, having done so, approached the man for whom he entertained such a genuine liking.
"Good-bye," he said. Then looking him straight in the face, he added, "If by any chance I should not return, you know whom to make acquainted with my fate. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered the other, his voice shaking as he said it. Then, seeing that Moreas was out of earshot, he added, "For heaven's sake, your Highness, run no undue risks. If you will not think of yourself, think of those in England who love you."
"You may be sure I shall do that," Max replied. Then, uttering another hearty good-bye, and shaking Bertram once more by the hand, he set off in pursuit of his partner.
As they turned the corner of the cañon, he looked back and waved his hand. Bertram was standing where he had left him, still looking after him.
CHAPTER XVI.
The first day's march, after they left the main camp, could not be said to have been, in any sense of the word, either a pleasant or a comfortable one. Both the men were ill at ease, not only with their present lot, but also with each other. Moreas entertained the unpleasant suspicion that Max, while he never failed in his duty, was, in reality, more in sympathy with Bertram than with himself. The anxiety of what was before them lay heavily upon their minds, while there was a nameless, indescribable something that Max could not understand, and yet which stood like a shadow between them. It soon became apparent to him that the dangers to which they were to be subjected had not been in the least exaggerated. For no less than four days they continued on through the mountains, and it was only after incredible hardships that they managed to reach the plains on the other side. Here, however, as it turned out, they were in scarcely a better plight. As they expected, on leaving the mountains they found themselves confronted by a stretch of desert. To attempt to cross it seemed to be to run too great a risk, and yet to turn back, when they were so near the end, seemed an equally foolish undertaking. With a dogged determination, worthy of a better cause, and with which Max had never credited him, Moreas decided in favour of pushing on. It was a rash decision, for with every hour the condition of the mules was becoming more and more pitiable, while the men themselves were in scarcely a better case. Still Moreas remained in a state of sullenness. When the animals were no longer able to bear their weights, he got off and walked sulkily beside his own beast, grudged them the delay when they rested, and after they had prepared their camp at night, went so far as to insinuate that Max had been keeping the mules back to serve his own purpose. It was indeed a dreary resting-place they had that night. There was no shelter; no water, save that they had brought with them; no food to revive their starving animals, save a few mouthfuls of corn and half a dozen handfuls of parched grass. As soon as his own meal was eaten, Moreas rolled himself up in his blankets and went to sleep, leaving Max by the fire, watching its dull glow and wondering whether he was destined to come safely out of this perilous adventure or not. Overhead the great stars shone brilliantly, while the low wind moaned like a banshee across the waste. He thought of those who loved him in England, of Ottilie, and later of myself. At such a moment his curiosity was excited as to what I had done when I discovered he had left Rio.
Next morning, as soon as it was daylight, they saddled up once more, and continued their march. For the moment the country, which consisted of barren plains in front, behind, and on either side, showed no signs of changing. As on the previous day, Moreas stalked grimly in front, never looking behind him, and to all appearances oblivious of his companion's presence.
One thing was growing more certain every hour, and that was the fact that the hardships through which they had passed had combined, with natural greed, to turn Moreas' brain.