from the scaffold;
and, making his way among the mausoleums, once more approaches the spot
where the South American banyan casts its sombre shadow over them.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

BREAKING BAD NEWS.

Caspar has been mistaken in supposing the other two asleep. One of them
is--Ludwig, who sleeps soundly, and to all appearance peacefully. Not
that he is indifferent to the seriousness of the situation, or less
anxious about the upshot, than Cypriano. He but slumbers, because he is
naturally of a more somnolent habit than his cousin, as also, being the
weaker of the two, from the effects of a journey so long sustained, and
travelling at such a pace. Moreover, he is not even yet quite recovered
from the damage done him by the gymnoti; their electricity still acting
on his nervous system, and producing a certain lassitude.

There is yet another reason why Ludwig has let himself go to sleep--one
of a moral nature. As is known, he still adheres to his belief in the
fidelity of Naraguana, and, so believing, is least of them all
apprehensive about the result. At this moment he may be dreaming of the
old _cacique_, though little dreams he that his dead body is so near!

Altogether different is it with Cypriano. This night there is no sleep
for him, nor does he think of taking any. Though he lay down alongside
his cousin, wrapping himself in his poncho, he did not long remain
recumbent. Instead, soon starting to his feet again, he has been pacing
to and fro under the fig-tree, wondering where Gaspar has gone. For, as
known, the gaucho had slipped off without making noise, or saying word.

Missing him, the young Paraguayan would call out his name. But he fears
to raise his voice, lest it reach other ears than those for which it was
intended. Reflecting, moreover, that Gaspar is pretty sure to have some
good reason for absenting himself, and that his absence will not likely
be for long, he awaits his return in silence. Therefore, when the
gaucho in coming back draws nigh to the fig-tree, he sees a form within
the periphery of its shadow, that of Cypriano, standing ready to receive
him. The latter first speaks, asking: "Where have you been, Gaspar?"

"Oh! only taking a turn among the tombs."

"And you've seen something among them to make you uneasy?"

"Why do you say that, Senorito?"

"Because I can see it in your countenance." The gaucho, as he
approaches, has the moon full upon his face, and by her ligh