'Before another hour had passed I was on horseback and on the way to Toluca. The road was infested by gangs of robbers, but my pockets were empty, and my brain was full, so I gave those gentry not even a passing thought. The evening was fast closing in, and as the shadows gathered round me, the tragic event which I had just witnessed gradually receded from my mind. As I journeyed on, it grew more and more distant, until at last it faded into a dim memory of the past; and through the long miles of my lonely ride there went before me the glorious vision of an opal-mine of untold wealth--an opal-mine without an owner--a countless fortune, untold riches, waiting to fall into my hands. XIV. 'It was past midnight when I reached Toluca. As it was too late to call on Adéle, I alighted at a tavern, where I passed the night, pacing my chamber, and not closing my eyes. Soon after daybreak I sought the house of Pepito's sister; and notwithstanding the earliness of the hour, found Mrs. Percival standing at one of the windows. ''You here, Mr. Rideau!' she exclaimed, with surprise, on seeing me. 'How did you find my retreat?' ''I was told of it by Mr. Livermore.' ''Ah! 'tis he who sent you.' ''Alas! not so, madame.' ''Alas!--you say, alas! What do you mean? Have you ill news?' ''I have, indeed, madame.' ''Arthur is dead!' she cried. 'I know he is dead! But, tell me, I entreat you, tell me all. How--when did this happen?' 'I gave her a detailed account of Arthur's death, to which she listened with rapt attention. ''This opal-mine, like the Golden Fleece, brings misfortune to all who seek it,' she said, when I had finished, 'Poor Arthur! I loved him fondly, devotedly; and his image will live forever in my heart. But at such a crisis it is worse than folly--it is madness to waste time by giving way to grief. Reason teaches us to bow before the inevitable. It is idle to repine at the decrees of Fate. I am alone, now--alone, without a friend or a protector. No matter; I have a stout heart, and the mercy of Providence is above all. But to business: After the death of Mr. Livermore, what became of the papers?' ''I burned them before his death, in obedience to his injunctions.' ''You burned them! I will not believe it!' she exclaimed, in a loud voice, and with a penetrating glance. 'I felt the blood rush to my face; she noticed my anger, and at once added, in milder tone: ''Pardon me! pardon me! I knew not what I said; I am well-nigh crazy; I do believe you, I do indeed; forgive me, and think of the despair to which the loss of those papers reduces me. I have no copy, and with them my secret perishes. I am ruined--ruined irretrievably. The mine is known now only to Pepito!' ''Then, madame, on him you must hereafter rely.' ''Explain to me, pray, how could Arthur, on his dying-bed, have been guilty of so cruel, so mean an act? How could he despoil the woman who had trusted him, and leave her not only forlorn, but destitute?'