"But no distractions!" added the major. "Do not lead us where we have nothing to do, and bring us back to the shores of the Pacific!"
"You would deserve it, my intolerable major," said Paganel, smiling. "But tell me, my dear Glenarvan, how will you understand Thalcave's language?"
"I suppose," answered Glenarvan, "that the Patagonian and I will not need to talk. Besides, with the few Spanish words that I know, I shall succeed well enough on an emergency in giving him my opinion and understanding his."
"Go then, my worthy friend," replied Paganel.
"Let us eat first," said Glenarvan, "and sleep till the hour of departure."
They ate supper without drink, which was rather unrefreshing, and then fell asleep. Paganel dreamed of torrents, cascades, streams, rivers, ponds, brooks, nay even full bottles, in short, of everything which generally contains water. It was a real nightmare.
The next morning at six o'clock the horses were saddled. They gave them the last drink of water left, which they took with more dislike than pleasure, for it was very nauseating. The three horsemen then mounted.
"Au revoir!" said the major, Austin, Wilson, and Mulready.
Soon the Patagonian, Glenarvan, and Robert (not without a certain throbbing of the heart) lost sight of the detachment confided to the sagacity of the geographer.
THE YOUNG SAILOR ON HORSEBACK.