"Oh, it is frightful!" they murmured, sadly. "Wretch," Don Sancho said in his indignation, "you have brought him to this state!" The Carib shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "The paleface is mad!" he replied; "My brothers do not torture the chiefs of prayer--they respect them. White men, like himself, have inflicted this atrocious punishment upon him." "Explain yourself, in Heaven's name," Doña Clara continued; "how is it that we find this worthy monk here in such a pitiable state?" "It will be better to let him explain himself when he has regained his senses. Omopoua knows but little." "That is true," Doña Clara said, as she dismounted and knelt by the side of the wounded man. "Poor fellow! What frightful suffering he must be enduring." "Can you not tell us anything, then?" Don Sancho asked. "Almost nothing," the chief replied, "this is all that I know." And he narrated in what way the monk had been confided to him, and how he had served as his guide, till they met the white men, when the monk discharged him for the purpose of joining them. "But," he added, "I know not why, some secret foreboding seemed to warn me not to leave him: hence, instead of going away I hid myself in the shrubs, and witnessed, unseen, the tortures they had him undergo, while insisting on his revealing to them a secret, which he refused to divulge. Conquered by his constancy, they at length abandoned him half dead. Then I rushed from my hiding place, and flew to his help. That is all I know; I am a chief, I have no forked tongue, and a falsehood has never sullied the lips of Omopoua." "Forgive me, Chief, the improper language I used at the first moment; I was blinded by anger and sorrow," said Don Sancho, holding out his hand. "The paleface is young," the chief replied with a smile; "his tongue moves more quickly than his heart;" then he took the hand so frankly offered him, and pressed it cordially. "Oh, oh!" the Major-domo said, with a shake of his head, and leaning over to Don Sancho's ear, "If I am not greatly mistaken, Don Stenio is mixed up in this affair." "It is not possible," Don Sancho replied, with horror. "You do not know your brother-in-law, Excellency; his is a weak nature, and all such are cruel; believe me, I am certain of what I state." "No, no, it would be too frightful." "Good Heaven," Doña Clara said, at this moment, "we cannot remain here any longer, and yet I should not like to abandon the poor man." "Let us take him with us," Don Sancho quickly remarked. "But will his wounds permit him to endure the fatigue of a long ride?" "We are almost at our journey's end," the Major-domo said, and then, turning to the Carib, added-- "We are going to the bivouac of the two buccaneers, who were hunting on the savannah yesterday." "Very good;" said the chief, "I will lead the palefaces by a narrow road, and they will arrive ere the sun reaches the edges of the horizon."