and swearing in a low voice, frowning and stopping every now and then to listen to those thousand noises which arise at night without apparent cause, and pass as if borne on the wings of the Djinns.
General Don José Maria Rubio was still a young man; he was about forty-two, though he seemed older, through the fatigues of a military life, which had left rude marks on his martial and open countenance; he was tall and well-built; his muscular limbs, his wide and projecting chest denoted great vigour; and though his close-shaven hair was beginning to turn grey, his black eye had a brilliancy full of youth and intelligence.
Contrary to the habits of Mexican general officers, who, under all circumstances, make a great display of embroidery, and are gilded and plumed like charlatans, his uniform had a simplicity and severity which added to his military appearance, and gave him that aspect of reflection and majesty which is so befitting the chief of an army.
A sabre and a pair of holster pistols were carelessly thrown across a map on the table in the centre of the room, over which the General frequently bent in his agitated walk. The gallop of a horse, at first distant, but which rapidly drew nearer, was heard. The sentinel outside the tent challenged, "Who goes there?"
The horseman stopped, leapt to the ground, and a moment later the curtain of the tent was thrust aside, and a man appeared.
It was Captain Don Juan Melendez.
"Here you are, at last!" the General exclaimed, as his countenance grew brighter.
But on noticing the impression of sorrow spread over the officer's features, the General, who had walked two steps toward him, stopped, and his face again assumed an anxious look.
"Oh, oh!" he said, "What can have happened? Captain, has any mishap occurred to the conducta?"
The officer bowed his head.
"What is the meaning of this, Caballero?" the General continued, angrily; "Have you suddenly grown dumb?"
The Captain made an effort. "No, General," he answered.
"The conducta! Where is the conducta?" he went on, violently.
"Captured!" Don Juan replied, in a hollow voice.
"Viva Dios!" the General shouted, as he gave him a terrible glance, and stamped his foot: "The conducta captured, and yourself alive to bring me the news?"
"I could not get myself killed."
"I really believe, Heaven pardon me!" the General said, ironically, "that you have not even received a scratch."
"It is true."
The General walked up and down the tent in the utmost agitation. "And your soldiers, Caballero," he went on, a minute later, stopping before the officer, "I suppose they fled at the first shot?"
"My soldiers are dead, General."
"What do you say?"
"I say, General, that my soldiers fell to the last man defending the trust confided to their honour."
"Hum, hum!" the General remarked, "Are they all dead?"
"Yes, General, all lie in a bloody grave; I am the only survivor of fifty brave and devoted men."
There was a second silence. The General knew the Captain too well to doubt his courage and honour. He began to suspect a mystery.
"But I sent you a guide," he at length said.
"Yes, General, and it was that guide who led us into the trap laid by the insurgents."
"A thousand demons! If the scoundrel – "
"He is dead," the Captain interrupted him, "I killed him."
"Good. But there is something about the affair I cannot understand."
"General," the young man exclaimed, with some animation, "though the conducta is lost, the fight was glorious for the Mexican name. Our honour has not suffered; we were crushed by numbers."
"Come, Captain, you are one of those men above suspicion, whom not the slightest stain can affect. If necessary, I would give bail for your loyalty and bravery before the world. Report to me frankly, and without any beating round the bush, all that has happened, and I will believe you; give me the fullest details about this action, in order that I may know whether I have to pity or punish you."
"Listen, then, General. But I swear to you that if after my report the slightest doubt remains in your heart as to my honour and the devotion of my soldiers, I will blow out my brains in your presence."
"Speak first, Caballero, we will see afterwards what your best course should be."
The Captain bowed, and began an exact report of what had taken place.
CHAPTER VI.
THE HUNTER'S COUNCIL
We will now return to Tranquil, whom we have too long neglected. The Canadian had left his friends two musket shots from the Texan encampment, intending, were it required, to call in Carmela: but that was not necessary; the young man, though unwillingly, had consented to all the Canadian asked of him, with which the latter was delighted, for without knowing exactly why, he would have been sorry to facilitate an interview between the young people.
Immediately after his conversation with the leader of the Freebooters, the hunter rose, and, in spite of the Jaguar's efforts to retain him, left the camp. He then remounted his horse, and, only half satisfied by his conversation with the Jaguar, returned thoughtfully to the spot where his friends were camping. The latter were awaiting him anxiously, and Carmela especially was suffering from a terrible uneasiness.
It was a strange fact, which women alone can explain, that the maiden, perhaps unconsciously, entertained toward the Jaguar and Captain Melendez feelings which she was afraid to analyze, but which led her to take an equal interest in the fate of those two men, and fear a collision between them, whatever the result might have proved. But for all that, it is certain that if she had been obliged to explain the reason which impelled her to act thus, she would have been unable to answer; and had anybody told her that she loved one or the other, she would have energetically protested; under the honest conviction that she spoke the truth.
Still, she felt herself, perhaps from different motives, irresistibly attracted toward them. She started at their approach; the sound of their voices caused her an internal thrill of happiness; if she remained long without news of them, she grew sad, pensive, and anxious; their presence restored her all her gaiety and birdlike freedom.
Was it friendship, or was it love? Who can answer?
Tranquil found his friends comfortably located in a narrow clearing, near a fire, over which their next meal was cooking. Carmela, a little apart, questioned with an impatient glance the path by which she knew the hunter must arrive. So soon as she perceived him, she uttered a suppressed cry of delight, and made a movement to run and meet him; but she checked herself with a flush, let her head droop, and concealed herself timidly behind a clump of floripondios.
Tranquil peacefully dismounted, took the bridle off his horse, which he sent with a friendly slap on the croup to join its comrades, and then sat down by the side of Loyal Heart.
"Ouf!" he said, "Here I am, back again, and not without difficulty."
"Did you run any dangers?"
