Shortly after, they came in sight of the river, and at the same time could command a view of the banks on both side of the ford. Don Cornelio became reassured at the sight. Neither horse, horseman, nor tent, was to be seen. Noisy and bustling as the place had been in the morning, it was now in the evening completely silent and deserted. Not a trace remained of the encampment of Arroyo—save the smouldering bivouac fires, and the débris of various articles that lay scattered over the ground.
“If I know,” said Costal to the Captain, “how to pick the truth from the lies which that scurvy fellow has told us—he who took such a marvellous fancy to your cloak—I should say we are on the road that will guide us to the man you are in search of. He is at this moment, I venture to say, at the hacienda San Carlos—notwithstanding that the droll humbug appeared to make such a mystery of his whereabouts.”
“But suppose the hacienda San Carlos to be occupied by a Spanish garrison?” suggested the Captain.
“Let us first cross the river,” said Costal, “you can remain upon the other side with Clara, while I go forward and make a reconnaissance.”
This proposition was agreed to by Don Cornelio; and the three travellers having forded the stream, Costal prepared to separate from them.
“Be cautious, good Costal,” said Lantejas, “there is danger on every side of us.”
“For me and Clara,” remarked the Indian, with an ironical smile; “one who has already lost his head should have nothing more to fear, Señor Captain!”
Saying this, Costal went off at a trot, leaving the Captain and Clara on the bank of the river.
The Indian had scarce passed out of sight, when a plunging in the water announced that horses were crossing the ford. Looking around, Don Cornelio beheld two horsemen riding out on the bank where he and Clara had halted. One of them carried behind him a pair of canvas alforjas, which appeared to have some large roundish objects inside. Merely exchanging a brief salute, the horsemen were passing on; when the Captain, in hopes of obtaining some information from them, inquired if the hacienda of San Carlos was far distant.
“No,” replied one, “only about a quarter of a league.”