"It is most natural, my child, and I do not blame you; even more, I fancy that your suppositions are very near the truth." "Do you think so, father?" she exclaimed, as she clasped her hands in terror. "It is probable," the Canadian quietly answered; "but reassure yourself, my child," he added, kindly; "although you have perhaps delayed too long in speaking to me, I may yet manage to avert the danger which is now suspended over the head of the man in whom you take such interest." "Oh do so, father, I implore you." "I will try, at any rate, my child, that is all I can promise you for the present; but what do you purpose doing?" "I?" "Yes, while my comrades and I are trying to save the Captain?" "I will follow you, father, if you will let me." "I think that is the most prudent course; but you must feel a great affection for the Captain, that you so ardently desire to save him?" "I, father?" she replied with the most perfect frankness, "Not the least; it only seems to me terrible that so brave an officer should be killed, when there is a chance of saving him." "Then you hate the Jaguar of course?" "Not at all, father; in spite of his violent character, he seems to me a noble-hearted man--the more so, because he possesses your esteem, which is the most powerful reason with me; still it grieves me to see two men opposed who, I feel convinced, if they knew each other, would become fast friends, and I do not wish blood to be shed between them." These words were uttered by the maiden with such simple frankness, that for some moments the Canadian remained completely stunned; the slight gleam of light he fancied he had found suddenly deserted him again, though it was impossible for him to say in what manner it had disappeared; he neither understood Doña Carmela's behaviour, nor the motives on which she acted--the more so, because he had no reason to doubt the good faith in all she had told him. After looking attentively at the maiden for some minutes, he shook his head twice or thrice like a man completely at sea, and without adding a word, proceeded to arouse his comrades. Tranquil was one of the most experienced wood-rangers in North America; all the secrets of the desert were known to him, but he was ignorant of the first word of that mystery which is called a woman's heart. A mystery the more difficult to fathom, because women themselves are nearly always ignorant of it; for they only act under the impression of the moment, under the influence of passion, and without premeditation. In a few words the Canadian explained his plans to his comrades: the latter, as he anticipated, did not offer the slightest objection, but prepared to follow him. Ten minutes later they mounted and left their bivouac under the guidance of Lanzi. At the moment when they disappeared in the forest, the owl uttered its matutinal cry, the precursor of sunrise. "Oh, Heavens!" the maiden murmured in agony; "Shall we arrive in time?" CHAPTER XXI.