At about the same time of the day, Watson returned to town. After the morning’s tragedy he had accompanied the seconds and the doctor while they transported the victim’s body to a dilapidated ranch house near the river. Then they determined to remove it to Fuerte Sarmiento, since Pirovani was to be buried there, in order to avoid the outbreaks that would be imminent if this ceremony were performed in La Presa.
As he was riding into town, just as he reached the first houses of the settlement he encountered Canterac.
The latter also was on horseback; and he wore a sombrero and a poncho just like the gauchos. From his saddle hung a sack of the kind used by the cow-punchers to carry clothing and various belongings.
As soon as Watson recognized him he stopped to say good-by, for Canterac had all the appearance of one prepared to cross the Patagonian desert.
Canterac, by way of replying to his question, pointed to that part of the horizon where the first stars were beginning to glitter over the invisible Andes. Then he told him that he counted on spending the night at a ranch near Fuerte Sarmiento, and that he would probably be under way again before dawn.
“Good-by, Watson,” he said. “It would have been a good thing for us if that woman had never come here. Strange, in what a different light I see things now. But ... it’s too late.”
For a few seconds he looked hesitatingly at the youth; then finally with decision, he said,
“I’ve earned at least the right to speak through my folly ... listen to what I am going to say, and don’t be offended if I give you advice that you don’t ask for.... Never let anything come between you and Robledo, boy.... There are few souls in this world like his. It’s thanks to him that I am getting away. Everything in this outfit belongs to him.... Don’t trust anyone who speaks ill of him....”
He eyed the boy sadly at these words; and before he rode away, he offered him still another bit of advice.
“And don’t on any account forget that young lady they call Flor de Rio Negro!” Then he shook Watson by the hand, waved him good-by, and leaning down, spurred his horse. In a moment he had vanished into the darkness of the new-born night.