the
distance voices which sing to him of happiness; seduced by their charm
he rushes toward them; but they fly at his approach; and his whole life
is passed in pursuing, without ever reaching, the happiness promised by
these delusive sounds.

For Fabian, happiness lay no longer in the Golden Valley. It existed
nowhere. No voice now sang for him; he had no aim to pursue; no flying
but charming image which he hoped to overtake. He was in one of those
moods that God in His mercy makes rare in our lives--during which all is
dark, as when at sea the light that guides the sailor becomes suddenly
obscured.

He advanced mechanically towards the thick row of trees that formed an
almost impenetrable hedge before him, but scarcely had he made a passage
for himself when he stopped motionless with surprise. The sunlight
shone on the stones thick as those on a beach, and discovered
innumerable glancing objects. Any other than a gold-seeker might have
been deceived by these stones, which looked like vitrifications at the
foot of a volcano; but the practised eye of Fabian instantly recognised
the virgin gold under its clayey envelope, as it is brought down by the
torrents from the gold-producing mountains. Before his eyes lay the
richest treasure that was ever displayed to the view of man.

If the breeze could have brought to the ears of the young Count of
Mediana the accents of Rosarita's voice, when she recalled him back to
the hacienda, he would gladly have quitted all these treasures to run
towards her. But the breeze was mute, and there is in gold so
irresistible an attraction that Fabian, in spite of his sadness, was for
the moment fascinated.

However, the soul of Fabian was not one to be intoxicated by success;
and after a few minutes of this enthusiasm, he called his two
companions. They came at his call.

"Have you found him?" said Pepe.

"The treasure, but not the man. See!" added he, pushing aside the
trees.

"What! those shining stones!"

"Are pure gold--treasures which God has hidden during centuries."

"My God!" exclaimed Pepe.

And with ardent eyes fixed upon the mass of riches before him, the
ex-carabinier fell upon his knees. Passions long kept under seemed to
rush back into his heart; a complete transformation took place in him,
and the sinister expression of his face recalled to mind the hour of
crime, when twenty years before he had bargained for the price of blood.

"Now," said Fabian, lo