"English! This is stranger still. But whence come you, and who bound you
on the nandu?"

"I will tell you--a little more water, I pray you, mademoiselle."

"Let him drink again, Angela--and dash some water in his face; he is
faint."

"_Le pauvre homme!_ See how his lips are swollen! Do you feel better,
monsieur?" she asked compassionately, again putting the cup to my lips.

"Much. A thousand thanks. I can answer your question now (to the old man).
I was bound on the nandu by order of the Queen of the Pachatupec Indians."

"The Pachatupec Indians! I have heard of them. But they are a long way
off; more than a hundred leagues of desert lies between us and the
Pachatupec country. Are you quite sure, monsieur?"

"Quite. And seeing that the nandu went at great speed, though not always
in a direct line, and we must have been going fifteen or sixteen hours, I
am not surprised that we have travelled so far."

"_Mon dieu!_ And all that time you have neither eaten nor drunk. No wonder
you are exhausted! Come with us, and we will give you something more
invigorating than water. You shall tell us your story afterward--if you
will."

I tried to rise, but my stiffened and almost paralyzed limbs refused to
move.

"Let us help you. Take his other arm, Angela--thus, Now!" And with that
they each gave me a hand and raised me to my feet.

"How was it? Who killed the nandu?" I asked as I hobbled on between them.

"We saw the creature coming toward us with what looked like a dead man on
his back, and as he did not seem disposed to stop I told Angela, who is a
famous archer, to draw her bow and shoot him. He fell dead where he now
lies, and when we saw that, though unconscious, you still lived, we
unloosed you."

"And saved my life. Might I ask to whom I am indebted for this great
service, and to what beautiful country the nandu has brought me?"

"Say nothing about the service, my dear sir. Helping each other in
difficulty and distress is a duty we owe to Heaven and our common
humanity. I count your coming a great blessing. You are the first visitor
we have had for many years, and the Abbe Balthazar gives you a warm
welcome to San Cristobal de Quipai. The name is of good omen, Quipai being
an Indian word which signifies 'Rest Here,' and I shall be glad for you to
rest here so long as it may please you."

"Nigel Fortescue, formerly an officer in the British Army, at present a
fugitive and a wanderer, tenders you his warmest