he only one who at this time was aware of the real name
and family of Tiburcio, and of course knew that he was not unworthy of
the daughter of a Mexican haciendado. But it had never entered his mind
that this young girl, who only regarded Tiburcio in the light of a poor
gambusino, would think for a moment of reciprocating his passion. His
ideas were suddenly altered, however, on hearing the voices of Tiburcio
and Rosarita, alternating with each other, with no other witness to
their conversation than the stars in the sky. It was evident,
therefore, that Rosarita did not regard the young rustic with an
unfavouring eye. An interview, such as this, could not be otherwise
than a thing premeditated and prearranged.

The heart of the Spaniard swelled with rage at the thought. His
ambition was suddenly alarmed: for this was an obstacle that had never
occurred to him. His countenance exhibited a thoughtful and troubled
expression. He found himself unexpectedly in the presence of one of
those exigencies, which render diplomacy powerless, and absolve all
reasons of state. He had behind him a man ready to destroy whatever
victims he might point out; but he remembered that twenty years of
expiation had failed to wash from his memory a murder of which he had
been himself accused. Should he, then, after having passed the middle
of his career, again embitter the remainder of his days by another deed
of blood? On the other hand, so near the object of his ambition, was he
to permit this barrier to stand in his way? or with a bold effort to rid
himself of the obstacle?

Thus it is that the ambitious continually roll before them the rock of
Sisyphus!

"Providence," said he to himself--and as he pronounced the word a bitter
smile played upon his lips--"Providence offers me an opportunity to
restore to this young man his name and his fortune, and the honours
which he has lost. Such a good action in my ripe age would perhaps
compensate for the crime of my youth. But, no--no--I spurn the
occasion--it is but a slight sacrifice to the cause which I serve."

As he spoke, his face was turned towards Cuchillo, who was observing him
attentively; but the shadow of the trees hindered the outlaw from noting
the sombre expression of his countenance.

"The hour is come," said he, speaking to Cuchillo in a low voice, "when
our doubts are to be solved. But remember! your projects of vengeance
must remain subordinate to my wishes--now foll