''Alas! sir, you have rightly judged. Two hours after the interview, the Indian suffered the garrote, and General Ramiro became the sole possessor of this important secret. I will not attempt to justify my venerable friend. He sincerely lamented his sin, and retribution followed him with long, sad years of exile and poverty. We often sat together for hours, he talking of his wonderful mine, and longing for his recall to his native land. His enemies, however, held a firm hold of government, and growing weary of delay, he made overtures to this firm of Brown and Hunt, through their correspondents in New-Orleans. Being sadly in want of funds, he was even mad enough to give a hint of some kind, relative to an opal mine, which was to be worked by them on joint account. ''Before any definite arrangement was perfected, an event occurred which is indelibly impressed on my memory. The General, after spending a portion of the afternoon with us, had returned to his home; and about eleven at night, a messenger begged my immediate attendance on him. He had been taken suddenly ill; and my husband, who was cognizant of the paternal affection the General felt for me, urged me to hasten to his bedside. ''I found him at the point of death; but my presence seemed to call him back to life. 'My child,' said he, placing in my hands a very voluminous letter, 'this is all I have to give you. Farewell, dear child, I am going. Farewell, forever.' In a few moments he was no more. I returned home a prey to the most intense grief, and for several days did not think of opening the letter I had received from my dying benefactor. It contained the most precise details of the situation of the opal mine, and advice as to the best means of reaching it. ''So you see, Mr. Rideau,' she added, after a slight pause, 'the secret is known only to three persons--Arthur, Pepito, and myself. What, under the circumstances, would you do?' ''I see but one course, madame--prompt action; by this means only can you hope to succeed. You should start without a day's delay.' ''And Pepito?' ''Take him with you.' ''Your advice would be excellent were it practicable; but the state of Mr. Livermore's health will not permit him to travel.' ''Oh! never fear, Adéle; your presence and your care will keep me up. I shall gain strength by change of air and scene.' 'Adéle was, probably, about to protest against such a proof of his attachment, when she was interrupted by a knock at the door. ''It is Pepito,' said I. My conjecture proved correct. Opening the door, the Mexican appeared, dressed in a new suit, and evidently not a little proud of his external improvements. He bowed politely to Mr. Livermore and myself, and then bending before Adéle, took her hand and raised it with true Mexican grace, to his lips. ''You arrive, Pepito,' said Adéle, 'at the very moment we are talking about you.' 'Pepito again bowed to the lady.