not be
better placed than on this rock; from here we might defy a whole tribe
of savages. Besides, we do not yet know that they will stop here. Both
of you crouch down. I shall watch them."

So saying, he lay flat down, hiding his head behind the stones which
surrounded the top like turrets, but without losing sight of the
horsemen. They began now to hear the sound of the horses' feet on the
plain. The old hunter saw them stop and converse, but could not hear
what they were saying.

"Why this halt, Diaz?" said Don Estevan, impatiently, "we have lost time
enough already."

"Prudence exacts that we should look about us before proceeding. The
knave may be hidden about here, as we have tracked him up to the rock;
he may not be alone, and we have everything to fear from him."

Don Estevan made a gesture of disdain.

"Ah!" said Bois-Rose, in a low voice, "I recognise Don Estevan, or
rather Don Antonio de Mediana, who is at last in our power."

"Don Antonio de Mediana! Is it possible? Are you sure?" cried Fabian.

"It is he, I tell you."

"Ah! now I see that it was the hand of God which brought me here. Shade
of my mother, rejoice!" cried Fabian.

Pepe kept silence, but at the name of Don Antonio, hatred shone also in
his glance. He raised his head, and his eye seemed to measure the
distance between him and the object of his vengeance, but even the long
rifle of Bois-Rose could scarcely reach them at such a range.

"Do not rise up, Pepe!" cautioned the Canadian; "you will be seen."

"Do you observe any others behind?" inquired Fabian.

"No one; from the point where the river divides to this place I see no
living being; if," added he, after an instant's pause, "that black mass
that I see floating on the river be only the trunk of a tree--but at any
rate it is floating away from us."

"Never mind that," said Fabian, "describe to me the man who accompanies
Don Antonio; perhaps I shall recognise him."

"He is tall and straight as a cane; and what a beautiful horse he
rides!"

"A bay horse? and has he gold lace on his hat, and a fine face?"

"Precisely."

"It is Pedro Diaz. Now it would be a cowardice not to show ourselves,
when heaven sends us Don Antonio almost alone."

"Patience," said Pepe; "I am as interested as you are in not letting him
escape, but haste may ruin all. When one has waited for twenty years,
one may easily wait a few minutes longer. Are you sure they are alone,
Bois-Rose?"