"This, then, being the case," said Amador, "and allowing thy first and most natural obedience to be to thy father, rather than to a master, how dost thou excuse to thyself the intention of deserting the service of thy friends, without demanding permission, or at least acquainting us with thy desires."
"Señor!" exclaimed Jacinto, surprised and embarrassed.
"It is known to me, that such was thy resolution," said the cavalier, with gravity; "for it was so confessed to me, last night, by thy father. But, indeed, though I cannot avoid expressing my displeasure at such intention, which seems to me both treacherous and ungrateful, I led thee aside less to scold thee, than to give thee intelligence of Abdalla, I myself being, as I think, the last Christian that beheld him."
"Oh, señor! and he escaped unharmed?" cried the boy.
"Verily without either bruise or wound, save that which was made on his soul, when I reproached him for deserting thee."
"I am deserted by all!" exclaimed Jacinto, clasping his hands.
"For the thousandth time, I tell thee, no!" said his patron: "And thy father made it apparent to me he abandoned thee unwillingly; nor would he leave me, though the pursuers were approaching fast, until he had exacted of me the very superfluous vow, that I would give thee a double protection from all wrong and injustice. Dry thy tears: I have already obtained of Cortes a promise of full pardon for Abdalla, when he returns to us, as doubtless he will, at Tenochtitlan."
"I hope so! I pray he may!" said Jacinto, hurriedly; "or what, oh! what shall become of us!"
"I will have him sought out, and by-and-by take thee, and him along, to Cuenza. 'Tis hard by to Granada."
The boy remained silent, and Amador continued:—