“Señor Don Fabian de Mediana!” cried he, starting up, “you are now a rich and powerful lord, for all this gold belongs to you alone.”
So saying, he advanced and bowed respectfully to Fabian, who appeared somewhat surprised by the manner of his salutation.
“God forbid,” cried Fabian, “that you, who have shared the peril, should not share the treasure. What do you say, Bois-Rose? do you not rejoice to become in your old age rich and powerful?”
But Bois-Rose, unmoved before all the riches, contented himself with shaking his head, while a smile of tenderness for Fabian testified to the only interest that he took in that marvellous spectacle!
“I think like Pepé,” said he, after a pause, “what could I do with this gold that the world covets? If it has for us an inestimable value, it is because it is to belong to you; the possession of the least of these stones would take away in our eyes from the value of the service we have rendered you. But the time for action has arrived; for certainly we are not alone in these solitudes.”
Pepé now began to pull aside the branches, but scarcely had he entered the valley when the sound of a gun was distinctly heard. In a moment his voice reassured his anxious comrades.
“It is the devil,” cried he, “forbidding us to encroach on his domains; but at all events it is a devil whose aim is not infallible.”
Before entering the valley Bois-Rose and Fabian raised their eyes to the top of the hill, whence the shot as well as the voice had proceeded. But the remains of the fog at that moment covered the top of the rock, and all three rushed simultaneously towards the isolated mass where they believed their enemy to be hidden. The sides, although steep, were covered with brushwood, which rendered them easier to climb; but it was a dangerous attempt, for the fog prevented them from seeing what enemies were above. Fabian wished to go first, but the vigorous arm of the Canadian held him back, and meanwhile Pepé was half-way towards the summit. Bois-Rose followed, begging Fabian to keep behind him.
Pepé mounted boldly, undismayed by the foes that might be concealed behind that mass of vapour, and soon disappeared under the mist. A cry of triumph soon warned his friends that he had arrived in safety. Both hastened to join him, but found no one on the rock except Pepé himself! Just as, disappointed at their want of success, they were preparing to descend again, a sudden gust of wind drove off the fog, and allowed them to see to a distance. To the right and left the plain presented the most complete picture of the desert in its dreary sadness. They beheld arid steppes over which whirled clouds of sand, a burnt and sterile ground, everywhere silence, everywhere solitude. At some distance off two men on horseback were seen advancing towards the rock, but at the distance at which they were, it was impossible to distinguish either their dress or the colour of their skin.
“Must we sustain a new siege here?” said Bois-Rose. “Are these white men or Indians?”