first time apprised of the fact thus made known to him. Unobservant of
such things generally, it had never occurred to him to reflect on what
had long been patent to the jealous eyes of Cypriano. Besides, the
thing seemed so absurd, even preposterous--a red-skinned savage
presuming to look upon his sister in the light of a sweetheart, daring
to love her--that the son of the Prussian naturalist, with all the
prejudices of race, could not be otherwise than incredulous of it.

"Are you sure of that?" he questions, still doubting. "Sure of what
you've said, Cypriano?"

"Quite sure," is the confident rejoinder; "more than once I've observed
Aguara's free behaviour towards my cousin; and once would have thrashed
the impudent redskin, but for uncle interfering. He was afraid it might
get us into trouble with Naraguana."

"But did father himself know of it? I mean about Aguara and Francesca?"

"No. I rather think not. And I disliked telling him."

All this is new light to Ludwig, and turns his thoughts into the same
channel of suspicion where those of Cypriano have been already running.
Still, whatever he may think of Naraguana's son, he cannot bring himself
to believe that Naraguana has been guilty. His father's friend, and
hitherto their protector!

"It cannot be!" he exclaims; "surely it cannot be!"

"It may be for all that, and in my opinion is. Ah! cousin, there's no
telling how an Indian will act. I never knew one who didn't turn
treacherous when it served his purpose. Whether the old chief has been
so or not, I'm quite sure his son has. Take my word for it, Ludwig,
it's the Tovas Indians who've done this deed, and it will be with them
we'll have to deal."

"But whither can they have gone? and why went they off so suddenly and
secretly, without letting father or any of us know. All that certainly
seems strange."

"Not so strange when we think of what's happened since. My idea is,
it's been all a planned thing. Aguara got his father to agree to his
carrying off Francesca; and the old chief, controlled by the young one,
let him take his way. Fearing to face uncle he first went off, taking
the whole tribe along; and they're now, no doubt, residing in some
distant part of the Chaco, where they suppose we'll never go after them.
But Francesca will be there too; and we must follow and find her--ay,
if we have to lay down our lives when she's found. Shall we not,
cousin?"

"Yes; shall and will!" is L