irection of the house whence he
has but lately started, and at great speed, urged on by the anxiety
which oppresses him. But he is not heading for the _ombu_, instead,
along the more direct path to the Indian town, which would take him past
the tree at some three hundred yards' distance.

He does not pass it, nevertheless. Before he has got half-way up the
hill, Caspar, taking the bridle of his own horse from the branch, leaps
into the saddle, and gallops down to meet him. The gaucho has a reason
for not hailing him at a distance, or calling him to come under the
_ombu_, till he first held speech with him.

"Caspar!" shouts the youth excitedly, soon as he catches sight of the
other coming towards him. "What news? Oh? you've not found them! I
see you haven't!"

"Calm yourself, young master!" rejoins the gaucho, now close up to him;
"I have found them--that is, one of them."

"Only one--which?" half distractedly interrogates the youth.

"Your uncle--but, alas--"

"Dead--dead! I know it by the way you speak. But my cousin! Where is
she? Still living? Say so, Caspar! Oh, say but that!"

"Come senorito, be brave; as I know you are. It may not be so bad for
the _nina_, your cousin. I've no doubt she's still alive, though I've
not been successful in finding her. As for your uncle, you must prepare
yourself to see something that'll pain you. Now, promise me you'll bear
it bravely--say you will, and come along with me!"

At this Gaspar turns his horse, and heads him back for the _ombu_, the
other silently following, stunned almost beyond the power of speech.
But once under the tree, and seeing what he there sees, it returns to
him. Then the gaucho is witness to an exhibition of grief and rage,
both wild as ever agitated the breast of a boy.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

DEAD!

Once more the sun is going down over the pampa, but still nothing seen
upon it to cheer the eyes of the Senora Halberger, neither those first
missing, nor they who went after. One after another she has seen them
depart, but in vain looks for their return.

And now, as she stands with eyes wandering over that grassy wilderness,
she can almost imagine it a maelstrom or some voracious monster, that
swallows up all who venture upon it. As the purple of twilight assumes
the darker shade of night, it seems to her as though some unearthly and
invisible hand were spreading a pall over the plain to cover her dear
ones, somewhere lying dea