Chapter Forty.
The Consummation.
Though by this time the sun was in the sky, it was still sombre darkness at the bottom of the barranca. I could barely distinguish the forms of Sam Brown and the brigand.
I was now convinced that the latter had no thought of treachery,—at least as regarded us; and with his treason to his old comrades we had nothing to do. That was an affair between him, and such conscience as he possessed.
For a second or two, both stage-driver and salteador were out of sight.
When I next set eyes upon them, they were upon the opposite side of the stream—climbing up the escarpment of the cliff, by a zigzag path that appeared to conduct to its summit.
A few minutes sufficed them for making the ascent; and then they appeared at the place where the two men had stood, while cutting down the bridge.
Shortly after I could see them hauling hand over hand—as if upon a rope; and looking below, I observed the puente-hamaca slowly ascending above the surface of the water.