Then Robert, and Paganel, and the Major, and the rest, exchanged touching farewells with the faithful Patagonian. Thalcave embraced them each, and pressed them to his broad chest. Paganel made him accept a map of South America and the two oceans, which he had often seen the Indian looking at with interest. It was the most precious thing the geographer possessed. As for Robert, he had only caresses to bestow, and these he lavished on his friend, not forgetting to give a share to Thaouka.
The boat from the DUNCAN was now fast approaching, and in another minute had glided into a narrow channel between the sand-banks, and run ashore.
“My wife?” were Glenarvan’s first words.
“My sister?” said Robert.
“Lady Helena and Miss Grant are waiting for you on board,” replied the coxswain; “but lose no time your honor, we have not a minute, for the tide is beginning to ebb already.”
The last kindly adieux were spoken, and Thalcave accompanied his friends to the boat, which had been pushed back into the water. Just as Robert was going to step in, the Indian took him in his arms, and gazed tenderly into his face. Then he said:
“Now go. You are a man.”
“Good-by, good-by, friend!” said Glenarvan, once more.
“Shall we never see each other again?” Paganel called out.
“Quien sabe?” (Who knows?) replied Thalcave, lifting his arms toward heaven.