"In truth, it seems, sir, that like the juces de letras, your accomplices," she added bitterly, "you have classified in your head the questions that compose my examination: for, in spite of what you did me the honour of telling me, I persist in seeing only an examination in what it pleases you to call our conversation."

"As you please, madam," Valentine replied with imperturbable coolness. "Will you explain to me how it is, that, after having been treated, according to your own statement, by us so kindly, you laid aside all gratitude and feelings of honour last night, to join two villains in a plot for carrying off a girl to whom you owe your life, and handing her over as a slave to the most ferocious Indians on the prairies – the Sioux?"

CHAPTER XXIX
THE AMBUSCADE

If the lightning had struck the ground at the Spanish girl's feet, it would not have caused her greater terror than this revelation, which she was far from expecting, made in a dear, dry, and unmoved voice.

Her features were contracted – the blood mounted to her head – she tottered on her horse, and would have fallen off, had not Valentine held her. But overcoming by the strength of her will the terrible emotion that troubled her, she repulsed the young man, saying in a firm voice, and with an implacable accent:

"You are well informed, sir; such is my intention."

Valentine felt momentarily stupefied. He regarded this woman, who had hardly emerged from childhood, whose lovely features, distorted by the passions that agitated them, had become almost hideous: he recalled, as in a dream, another woman nearly as cruel whom he had once known. An indescribable feeling of sorrow pervaded his heart at the terrible reminiscence thus suddenly evoked. So much perfidity seemed to him to go beyond the limits of human wickedness; and for an instant he almost fancied himself in the presence of a demon.

"And you dare confess it to me?" he at length said, with badly concealed terror.

"And why not? What can you do to me? Kill me! A glorious revenge for a brave man! And, besides, what do I care for life? Who knows? perhaps, without wishing it, and fancying you are punishing me, you would do me an uncommon service by killing me."

"Kill you? Nonsense," the hunter said, with a smile of contempt. "Creatures of your kind are not killed. In the first flush of passion we crush them under our boot heel, like venomous reptiles: but, on reflection, we prefer plucking out their teeth. That is what I have done, viper? Now bite if you dare!"

A fearful rage took possession of the Spanish girl; she raised her whip, and with a movement more rapid than thought struck Valentine across the face, merely hissing the word:

"Coward!"

At this insult the hunter lost his coolness. He drew a pistol and fired it point blank at this woman, who sat before him motionless, and smiling. But she had not lost one of the Frenchman's movements out of sight. She made her horse leap on one side, and the bullet whistled inoffensively past her ear.

At the sound of the firing, the hunters felt alarmed, and they galloped up to the spot, to inquire what had occurred. The shot had been scarce fired ere Pedro Sandoval, who had hitherto listened with apparent indifference to the conversation, dashed at Valentine, brandishing a long knife which he had managed to conceal.

The hunter, who had regained his presence of mind, awaited him firmly; and as the pirate came up to him, he stopped him short with a bullet through his body. The villain rolled on the ground with a yell of disappointed rage.

The Spanish girl looked around her disdainfully, made her horse bound, and started at an incredible pace amidst the bullets that whizzed round her from all sides, crying in a hoarse voice: —

"We shall meet again, soon, Valentine. Till then, farewell."

The hunter would not allow her to be pursued, and she soon disappeared in the tall grass.

"Oh, oh, this scamp seems to me very ill," the general said, after dismounting. "What the deuce shall we do with him?"

"Hang him!" Valentine observed, drily.

"Well," the general continued, "that is not such a bad idea. In that way, we shall get rid of one of the villains, and, on reflection, that will prevent him feeling the pain of his wound."

"Let us finish with him," Don Miguel interrupted.

"Caspita! what a hurry you are in, my friend," the general answered. "Hum! I am certain he is not in such haste – are you, my good fellow?"

"Come," Valentine said, with that mocking expression he had through his Parisian birth, and which broke out at intervals – "our friend is in luck. He has fallen at the foot of a splendid tree, which will form an observatory whence he can admire the landscape at his ease. Curumilla, my worthy fellow, climb up the tree, and bend down that branch as much as you can."

Curumilla, according to his laudable habit, executed immediately the order given him, though without uttering a word.

"Now, my good fellow," the hunter continued, addressing the wounded man, "if you are not a thorough Pagan, and can recollect any prayer, I should recommend you to repeat it, for it will do you more good than ever it did."

And, raising Sandoval in his arms, who maintained a gloomy silence, he passed the cord round his neck.

"One moment," Curumilla remarked, as he seized with his left hand the bandit's thick hair.

"That is true," said the hunter. "It is your right, chief, so make use of it."

The Indian did not wait for this to be repeated. In a second he had scalped the Spaniard, who looked at him with flashing eyes, and coldly placed the dripping scalp in his girdle. Valentine turned away his head in disgust at this hideous sight, but the Spaniard did not give vent to a groan.

As soon as he had placed the running noose round the bandit's neck, Valentine threw the cord to Curumilla, who attached it firmly to the branch, and then came down again.

"Now that justice is done, let us go," said Valentine.

The witnesses of the execution remounted. The branch which had been held down flew back, bearing with it the body of the pirate.

Pedro Sandoval remained alone, quivering in the last convulsions of death.

So soon as Valentine and his comrades were out of sight, several Apaches, at the head of whom were Red Cedar and the White Gazelle, started out of a thicket. An Indian climbed up the tree, cut the rope, and the body of the Spaniard was gently laid on the ground. He did not give a sign of existence.

The girl and Red Cedar hastened to give him help, in order to recall life, were it possible, to this poor and fearfully mutilated body; but all their efforts seemed futile. Pedro Sandoval remained cold and inert in the arms of his friends. In vain had they removed the slip knot which pressed his throat – his swollen and blue veins would not diminish in size, or his blood circulate. All seemed over.

As a last chance, an Apache took a skinful of water, and poured the contents on the bare and bleeding skull of the Spaniard. At the contact of this cold shower, his whole body trembled, a deep sigh burst with an effort from his oppressed chest, and the dying man painfully opened his eyes, fixing a sad and languishing glance on those who surrounded him.

"Heaven be praised!" said the girl; "He is not dead."

The bandit looked at the girl with that glassy and wandering stare which is the infallible sign of a speedy death; a smile played round his violet lips, and he muttered in a low and inarticulate voice:

"No, I am not dead, but I shall soon be so."

Then he closed his eyes again, and fell back, apparently in his former state of insensibility. The spectators anxiously followed the progress of this frightful agony: White Gazelle frowned, and, bending over the dying man, put her mouth to his ear.

"Do you hear me, Sandoval?" she said to him.

The bandit suddenly quivered, as if he had received an electric shock. He turned toward the speaker, and partially opened his eyes.

"Who is near me?" he asked.

"I, Pedro. Do you not recognise me, old comrade?" Red Cedar said.

"Yes," the Pirate said, peevishly, "I recognise you; but it was not you I wished to see."

"Whom do you mean?"

"The Niña. Has she abandoned me too – she, for whom I am dying!"

"No, I have not abandoned you," the girl quickly interrupted him; "your reproach is unjust – for it was I who succoured you. Here I am, father."

"Ah," he said, with a sigh of satisfaction, "you are there, Niña; all the better. God, if there be a God, will reward you for what you have done."

"Do not speak of that, but tell me why you asked for me, father."

"Do not give me that name," the bandit said violently; "I am not your father!"

There was a moment's silence; at length the Pirate continued, in an almost indistinct voice, and as if speaking to himself —

"The hand of God is in this – it was He who decreed that at the last moment the daughter of the victim should see one of the principal assassins die."

He shook his head piteously, sighed and added, mournfully —

"That is the hand of God."

His hearers looked at each other silently; an instinctive fear, a species of superstitious terror had seized upon them, and they did not dare question this man. A few minutes elapsed.

"Oh, how I suffer!" he suddenly muttered; "my head is a red-hot furnace – give me drink."

Water was quickly brought him, but he repulsed it, saying —

"No, not water – I want to regain my strength."

"What will you have, then?" Red Cedar asked him.

"Give me aguardiente."

"Oh!" the girl said imploringly; "do not drink spirits – they will kill you."

The bandit grinned horribly.

"Kill me?" he said, "Why, am I not a dead man already, poor fool?"

The White Gazelle gave Red Cedar a glance.

"Let us do what he wishes," the latter whispered; "he is a lost man."

"Aguardiente," the sufferer said again; "make haste, if you do not wish me to die ere I have spoken."

Red Cedar seized his gourd, and in spite of the girl's entreaties, thrust the neck between the pirate's lips. Sandoval drank deeply.

"Ah!" he said, with a sigh of satisfaction; "at present I feel strong. I did not believe that it was so difficult to die. Well, if there be a God, may His will be done. Red Cedar, give me one of your pistols, and leave me your gourd."

The squatter did as his comrade requested.

"Very good," he went on; "now, retire all of you; I have to speak with the Niña."

Red Cedar could not conceal his dissatisfaction.

"Why weary yourself?" he said; "it would be better for you to let us pay you that attention your condition demands."

"Oh!" the bandit said, with a grin, "I understand you; you would sooner see me die like a dog, without uttering a syllable, for you suspect what I am about to say – well, I feel sorry for you, gossip, but I must and will speak."

The squatter shrugged his shoulders.

"What do I care for your wanderings?" he said; "It is only the interest I feel in you that – "

"Enough!" Sandoval interrupted him, sharply. "Silence! I will speak! no human power can force me in my dying hours to keep the secret longer; it has been rankling in my bosom too long already."

"My good father – " the girl murmured.

"Peace," the bandit went on authoritatively, "do not oppose my will, Niña. You must learn from me certain things before I render my accounts to Him who sees everything."

Red Cedar fixed a burning glance on the dying man, as he convulsively clutched the butt of a pistol; but he suddenly loosed his hold, and smiled ironically.

"What do I care?" he said; "It is too late now."

Sandoval heard him.

"Perhaps so," he replied; "Heaven alone knows."

"We shall see," the squatter retorted, sarcastically.

He made a signal; the Apaches retired silently with him, and the girl remained alone near the dying man.

White Gazelle was a prey to an extraordinary emotion, for which she could not account; she experienced a curiosity mingled with terror, that caused her a strange oppression and trouble. She regarded the man lying half dead at her feet, and who while writhing in atrocious pain, fixed on her a glance full of indescribable pity and irony.

She feared, and yet desired that the bandit should make to her the gloomy confession she expected. Something told her that on this man her life and future fortune depended. But he remained gloomy and dumb.

CHAPTER XXX
THE PIRATE'S CONFESSION

A few moments passed, during which the Pirate seemed painfully collecting his thoughts before speaking. White Gazelle, with her eyes fixed on him, waited with anxious curiosity.

At length, the bandit seized the gourd, raised it to his lips a second time, and after drinking heartily, replaced it by his side. A feverish flush immediately spread over his cheeks, his eyes grew brighter, and he said, in a firmer voice than might have been expected —

"Listen to me attentively, child, and profit by what you are about to hear. I am dying and men do not lie at such a moment. The words I shall utter are true. You well know me."

He stopped for some seconds, and then continued with an effort —

"I have not always been a pirate of the prairies, or tiger with a human face – one of those wretches whom it is permissible to hunt like wild beasts. No! there was a time when I was young, handsome, and rich; at that remote period I was called Walter Stapleton, and was so rich that I did not know the amount of my fortune. Like everyone else you fancied me a Spaniard, and have been equally deceived – I am a citizen of the United States, descended from an old puritan family, long settled at New York. My parents died before I was twenty years of age; master of an immense fortune, I had become connected with all the scamps in the city; two especially became my intimate friends, and succeeded in a short time in getting such a hold on me, that I only acted on their impulses and by their suggestions. One of them was born in New York like myself, the other was a Mexican. Both were, like myself, young, good-looking, and rich, or, at least, they appeared so, for they squandered enormous sums. Their names were – but why tell you them?" he added, "I am not speaking of them here, but only of myself. One day the Mexican came to me with a letter in his hand; his family called him home, for he was to enter the church; but he would not, or, at least, could not leave New York at the moment. I never knew the reason; but one month later we were all three compelled to seek a refuge in Mexico, after a mournful tragedy, in which my two friends played the chief part, leaving behind them a trail of blood. I repeat to you that I never learned the circumstances."

At this moment a rustling was audible in the bushes against which the bandit was leaning; but the Gazelle, overcome by the increasing interest of the story, did not notice it. There was an interruption for some minutes. Pedro Sandoval was growing perceptibly weaker.

"I must finish, however," he said; and making an effort, he continued: – "We were at Mexico, where we lived nobly. In a short time I gained the reputation of a finished gentleman. A great gambler, and adored by women, shall I repeat to you the follies and extravagances that filled my days? What good would it be? Suffice it for you to know that I deserved this reputation in every respect. One day, a stranger arrived in Mexico. He was, it was said, a caballero from an upcountry province, enormously rich, and travelling for his pleasure. This man in a short time displayed such recklessness, that his reputation soon equalled and even surpassed mine. I, who had always been the first in every wild scheme, was placed in the second rank. My friends laughed at the sudden change effected, and by this incessant raillery augmented my anger and detestation of this Don Pacheco de Tudela, as the man was called. Several times already we had met face to face at the tertulias, and each time our glances crossed like sword blades. I comprehended that this man hated me. For my part, a dull jealousy devoured me when his name was mentioned in my presence.

"A crisis was imminent, and we both sought it. One evening, when we were both at the tertulia of the Governor of Arispe, a game of monte was arranged. You know that game, which is the ruling passion of the Mexicans. I had held the bank for some hours, and an incredible run of luck had made me gain immense sums, which were piled up before me, and covered nearly the whole of the table. The gamblers, terrified by this constant good luck, retired in terror. I was about to collect and send off my money, when I heard a few paces from me Don Pacheco saying ironically to a party of friends: – 'I am not jealous of señor Stapleton's good luck. I have allowed him to win that he may repair his ruined fortune, and stop the cries of his creditors, who have been yelping for a long time at his heels.'

"These words wounded me the more because they were true. My fortune, mortgaged beyond its value, only existed on paper, and numerous creditors incessantly pursued me. I walked up to Don Pacheco, and looked him boldly in the face.

"'To prove to you that I do not fear losing,' I said to him, 'I offer to stake on one hand with you all it has taken me so many hours to win.'

"The stranger looked at me in his turn; then he said, in his cutting voice, and with the sarcastic accent habitual to him: —

"'You are wrong, my dear sir. This money is very necessary to you; and, if I were mad enough to play with you, I warn you that you would lose.'

"He laughed in my face, and turned his back on me.

"'Oh!' I said to him, 'you are afraid – and then, again, you probably do not possess one quarter the sum there, and that is why you dare not play.'

"Don Pacheco shrugged his shoulders without replying to me, and addressed the richest banker of Arispe, who was standing near him: —

"'Señor Don Julio Baldomero,' he said to him, 'how much do you think there is on that table?'

"The banker took a glance in my direction, and then answered: —

"'Six hundred thousand piastres, or nearly so, señor.'

"'Very good,' the other said. 'Don Julio, be good enough to give me a bill for twelve hundred thousand piastres, payable at sight, on your bank.'

"The banker bowed, took out his pocketbook, and wrote a few words on a leaf which he tore out, and handed to Don Pacheco.

"'Do you believe, sir,' the Mexican said to me, 'that this bill represents the sum before you?'

"These words were accompanied by the sarcastic smile this man constantly had on his lips, and which drove me wild.

"'Yes,' I replied haughtily, 'and I am awaiting your determination.'

"'It is formed,' he said. 'Ask for new cards, and let us begin. Still, you can recall your word, if you like.'

"'Nonsense,' I said, as I undid a fresh pack of cards.

"Although our altercation had been short, as everybody knew our feelings toward each other, the conversation had broken off, and all the guests at the tertulia had collected around us. A profound silence prevailed in the room, and the faces expressed the curiosity and interest aroused by this strange scene. After shuffling the cards for some time, I handed them to my opponent to cut. The stranger laid his right hand on the pack, and said to me impertinently: —

"'There is yet time.'

"I shrugged my shoulders as reply. He cut, and I began dealing. At the fourth hand I had lost, and was ruined!"

The pirate stopped. For some time his voice had been growing weaker, and it was only by making extreme efforts that he succeeded in speaking distinctly.

"Drink!" he said so softly that the girl scarce heard him. She caught up a skin of water.

"No," he said, "brandy."

White Gazelle obeyed him.

The pirate eagerly drank two or three mouthfuls.

"All was over," he continued, in a firm voice, with sparkling eye, and face flushed by the fever preying on him. "Concealing my rage in my heart, I prepared to leave the table with a smile on my lips.

"'One moment, sir,' my opponent said. 'The game is not over yet.'

"'What do you want more?' I answered him. 'Have you not won?'

"'Oh!' he said, with a gesture of supreme contempt: 'That is true. I have won this wretched sum. But you have a stake still to risk.'

"'I do not understand you, sir.'

"'Perhaps so! Listen to me. There are on this table eighteen hundred thousand piastres, that is to say, a fabulous fortune, which would form the happiness of a dozen families.'

"'Well?' I answered in a surprise.

"'Well, I will play you for them, if you like. Hang it, my dear sir, I am in luck at this moment, and I will not let fortune escape me while I hold her.'

"'I have nothing more to stake, sir, and you know it,' I said in a loud and haughty voice. 'I do not understand what you are alluding to.'

"To this he replied, without seeming in the least disconcerted, 'You love Doña Isabella Izaguirre?'

"'How does that concern you?'

"'If I may believe public rumour, you are to marry her in a few days,' he continued calmly. 'Well, I too love Doña Isabel, and I have made up my mind she shall be mine by fair means or foul.'

"'And?' I interrupted him violently.

"'And, if you like, I will stake these eighteen hundred thousand piastres against her hand. You see that I appreciate her value,' he added, as he carelessly lit his panatellas.

"'Canario! A splendid game! What a magnificent stake! A man cannot act more gallantly!' Such were the remarks made around me by the witnesses of this scene.

"'You hesitate?' Don Pacheco asked me in his ironical way.

"I looked defiantly round me, but no one accepted my challenge.

"'No,' I answered in a hollow voice, my teeth clenched with rage. 'I accept.'

"The audience uttered a cry of admiration. Never in the memory of players at Arispe, had a game of monte afforded such interest, and all eagerly collected round the table. I felt for Doña Isabel that profound love which constitutes a man's existence.

"'Who is to deal?' I asked my adversary.

"'You!' he replied, with his infernal smile.

"Five minutes later, I had lost my mistress!"

There was a moment's silence; a nervous tremor had assailed the pirate, and for some instants it was only by an extraordinary effort that he had been enabled to utter the words that seemed to choke him. It was evident that the wound in his heart was as vivid as on the day when he received it, and that only a strong interest induced him to refer to it.

"At length," he continued with a certain volubility, as he wiped away the cold perspiration that beaded on his forehead, and mingled with the blood that oozed from his wound, "the stranger approached me.

"'Are you satisfied?' he said.

"'Not yet,' I replied in a gloomy voice: 'we have still one game to play out.'

"'Oh,' he said, ironically, 'I fancied you had nothing more to lose.'

"'You were mistaken. You have still my life to gain from me.'

"'That is true,' he said, 'and by heaven, I will win it from you. I wish to cover your stake to the end, so let us go out.'

"'Why do that?' I said to him. 'This table served as the arena for the first two games, and the third shall be decided upon it.'

"'Done!' he said. 'By Jupiter! You are a fine fellow! I may kill you, but I shall be proud of my victory.'

"People attempted in vain to prevent the duel; but neither the stranger nor myself would listen to it. At length they consented to give us the weapons we asked for; and then, moreover, this strange combat in the flower-adorned room, on the table covered with gold, among lovely young women, whose freshness and beauty the lights heightened, had something fatal about it which inflamed the imagination. The two heroes of Arispe, the men who had for so long a time formed the sole topic of conversation, had at length decided to settle which should definitely hold the palm.

"I leaped on the table, and my opponent at once followed my example. I enjoyed the reputation of being a fine swordsman, and yet, at the second pass, I fell with my chest pierced through and through. For three months I hovered between life and death, and when my youth and powerful constitution at length triumphed over my horrible wound, and I was approaching convalescence, I inquired about my adversary. On the day after our duel, this man had married Doña Isabel; a week later, both disappeared, and no one could tell me in what direction they had gone.

"I had only one object, one desire – to revenge myself on Don Pacheco. So soon as I was sufficiently recovered to leave the house, I sold the little left me, and quitted Arispe in my turn, followed by my friends, who were as poor as myself, for the blow that had struck me had struck them too, and, like myself, they only desired revenge on Don Pacheco. For a long time our researches were vain, and many years elapsed ere I grew weary of seeking their trail. There were only two of us now to do it, for the third had left us.

"What had become of him? I do not know, but one day, by chance, at an American frontier village where I had gone to sell my peltry, Satan brought me face to face with this friend, whom I never expected to meet again. He wore a monk's gown, and so soon as he perceived me, walked up to me. The first words he addressed to me after our lengthened separation were:

"'I have found them again.'

"I understood without it being necessary for him to make any further explanation, for my hatred had taken such deep root in my heart. What more shall I tell you, Niña?" he added, with an effort, while a fearful smile crisped his blue lips. "I took my revenge. Oh! This vengeance was long in coming, but it was terrible!.. Our foe had become one of the richest hacenderos in Texas; he lived happily with his wife and children, respected and loved by all who surrounded him. I bought a farm near his, and then, on the watch, like a jaguar with its prey, I followed his every movement, and introduced myself into his house. So lengthened a period had elapsed since our last meeting, that he did not recognise me, although a foreboding seemed from the outset to warn him that I was his enemy.

"One night, at the head of a band of pirates and Apaches, my two friends and myself, after assuring ourselves that all were quietly sleeping in Don Pacheco's hacienda, glided like serpents through the darkness; the walls were escaladed, and our vengeance began. The hacienda was given up to the flames; Don Pacheco and his wife, surprised in their sleep, were pitilessly massacred, after undergoing atrocious tortures. I tore both yourself and your sister from the arms of your dying mother, who sobbed at our feet, imploring me to spare you in memory of my old love for her.

"I swore it, and kept my promise. I do not know what became of your sister; I did not even trouble myself about her. As for you, Niña, have you had ever any cause to reproach me?"

The girl had listened to this fearful revelation with frowning eyebrows and livid cheeks. When the bandit stopped, she said harshly:

"Then you are the murderer of my father and mother?"

"Yes," he replied, "but not alone; there were three of us, and we took our revenge."

"Wretch!" she burst forth; "Vile assassin!"

The girl uttered these words with such an implacable accent, that the bandit shuddered.

"Ah!" he said, "I recognise the lioness. You are truly my enemy's daughter. Courage, child, courage. Assassinate me in your turn. What restrains you? Rob me of the short span of life still left me, but make haste, or Heaven will prevent your vengeance."

And he fixed on her his eye, which was still proud, but already clouded by the hand of death. The girl gave no answer.

"You prefer seeing me die; well, receive this last present," he said, plucking from his bosom a bag, suspended from a steel chain; "in it you will find two letters, one from your father, the other from your mother; you will learn who you are, and what name you should bear in the world, for the one I mentioned is false; I wished to deceive you to the end. That name is my last vengeance… Niña, you will remember me."

The girl bounded on to the bag and seized it.

"Now, good-bye," the Pirate said; "my work is accomplished on this earth."

And seizing the pistol Red Cedar had left him, he blew out his brains, fixing on the girl a glance of strange meaning. But she did not seem to notice this tragical end, for she was tearing the bag with her teeth. When she succeeded in opening it, she unfolded the papers it contained, and hurriedly perused them. Suddenly she uttered a shriek of despair, and fell back, clutching the letters in her hand.

The Indians and pirates ran up to help her, but, quicker than lightning, a horseman darted from the chaparral, reaching the girl without checking the speed of his horse; he bent down, raised her up in his powerful arms, threw her across his saddle-bow, and passed like a tornado through the astounded spectators.

"We shall meet again soon, Red Cedar," he said in a loud voice, as he passed the squatter.

Before the latter and his comrades could recover from their surprise, the horseman had disappeared in the distance in a cloud of dust.

The horseman was Bloodson!

Red Cedar shook his head sadly.

"Can what the priests say be true?" he muttered; "Is there really a Providence?"