phantoms,
opposing his advance with extended arms; a cold perspiration stood on
his brow, but cupidity, stronger than fear, spurred him on towards the
valley, and he began to laugh at his own apprehensions.

"Phantoms," said he, "are like alcaldes, who never address poor devils
like me; but let me only get one or two arrobas of gold, and I shall
have so many masses said for the soul of Arellanos, that he will be glad
to have met his death in such generous hands."

He laughed at this quaint conceit, and then rode on quickly. In a few
minutes he stopped and listened again, but heard no noise save the loud
breathing of his horse.

"I am alone," thought he; "those brutes whom I have guided are fighting
to give me leisure to despoil the sands of some of that precious gold.
Who is to prevent me presently, when daylight appears, from picking up
as much as I can carry without betraying my secret? This time, it will
not be as when along with Arellanos; I shall not have to fly from the
Indians: they are busy. Afterwards I can come back with such of my
companions as escape the Apaches. How many will remain to partake with
me? Oh! the thought of these treasures makes the blood boil in my
veins. Is it not gold that gives glory, pleasure, and every good of
this world? our priests say its power extends even beyond the tomb!"

While Cuchillo was advancing blindly to where his destiny led him, Don
Estevan and Pedro Diaz were also on their way. Although the hills were
but six leagues from the camp, yet, uncertain of the time of his
absence, Don Estevan had left orders to his people to await his return.
The two advanced silently, full of desire for the gold, but equally
desirous of intercepting the traitor. Two hours' quick riding had
produced no result. Thanks to his advance, Cuchillo was invisible; and
the darkness would have hidden his track even from the eye of an Indian.

"There is no doubt," said Pedro Diaz, breaking silence, "that the knave
must have profited by the confusion to fly towards the valley, and seize
on a part of the treasures which he has sold to us."

"That is not what I fear most," said Don Estevan. "If Cuchillo has not
exaggerated the riches of the place, there will be plenty left for all
of us. But now so near attaining that for which I have crossed the
desert--after having left a position envied by all, to brave the dangers
of an expedition like this--a vague fear of failing agitates me. The
dese