it appeared strange to
me, that the youngest of the three hunters spoke to me of Don Estevan,
Diaz, Oroche, and Baraja, as though he knew them perfectly."

A pang shot through Dona Rosarita's heart, her bosom heaved, her cheeks
were dyed with a deep crimson, then became pale again as the flowers of
the _datura_, but she still remained silent.

"I draw towards the close of my recital," continued Gayferos. "After
having recovered the brave warrior's son from the Apaches, we journeyed
towards the plains of Texas. I shall not relate to you all the dangers
we encountered during six months of our wandering life, as hunters of
the otter and the beaver, nevertheless, it had its charms; but there was
one amongst us, who was far from finding this life agreeable. This was
our young companion.

"When I saw him for the first time I was struck by the melancholy
expression of his countenance, but afterwards, as we journeyed together,
I noticed that this melancholy, instead of decreasing, seemed daily to
augment. The old hunter, whom I believed to be his father (I know now
that he is not), took every opportunity of calling his attention to the
magnificence of the vast forest in which we lived, the imposing scenes
of the desert, or the charm of the perils we encountered. They were
vain efforts, for nothing could banish the grief that consumed him. He
seemed only to forget it in the midst of the dangers he eagerly sought.
One might have supposed that life to him was no more than a heavy burden
which he desired to get rid of.

"Full of compassion for him, I often said to the old hunter--`Solitude
is only suited to an advanced age, youth delights in activity, and in
the presence of its equals. Let us return to our habitations.' But the
giant only sighed without replying.

"Soon afterwards the manner of the two hunters, who loved their young
companion as a son, became also saddened.

"One night while the young man and I were watching, I recalled a name
which six months before he had uttered in his sleep. I then learned the
secret of that grief which was slowly consuming him. He loved, and
solitude had but increased a passion which he vainly sought to stifle."

Gayferos paused an instant to cast a searching glance upon the
countenances of his auditors, especially upon that of Dona Rosarita. He
appeared to take a secret pleasure in exciting the young girl by the
recital of all the circumstances best calculated to touch the