For some minutes the Colonel's eyes had been fixed on the sea, and he had listened to his friend's remarks with a very absent air. "Why," he suddenly said, "look there, my friend." "What is it?" "Do you not see?" "What do _you_ see, let me ask in return?" "Hang it! I see the _Libertad_ corvette, which has first anchored under the guns of the Point Fort, bringing with her a privateer brig, which she has, in all probability, captured off the coast." "Do you think so?" the Jaguar asked, sarcastically. "Look for yourself!" "My friend, I am rather like St. Thomas." "What do you mean?" "That as long as I am not completely convinced, I shall attach but very slight faith to the testimony of my eyesight." These words were uttered with such a singular intonation, that, in spite of himself, the Colonel felt ashamed. "What can you mean?" he asked. "Nothing but what I say," the Jaguar answered. "Still, I fancy I cannot be mistaken. I can very distinctly see the Mexican flag over the reversed Texan colours." "It is true," the Jaguar said, coldly, "but what does that prove?" "What do you say?--'What does that prove?'" "Yes." "Are you so ignorant of naval matters, then, as not to know what takes place on board a vessel after an engagement?" "I beg your pardon, friend, but I know all about it. But I know, too, that what we see may be the result of a stratagem, and that the brig, after capturing the corvette, may have an interest in concealing the fact." "Come, come," the Colonel said, with a laugh, "that is carrying optimism a little too far. Let us leave the corvette and brig, and return to our own affairs." "Well, I think you are in the right; for, judging from the turn the conversation has taken, we should presently be unable to understand one another at all." During this conversation the sun had set, and night completely fallen. The two gentlemen passed their horses' bridles over their arm to prevent them straying, and then walked slowly, side by side, in the direction of the Rio Trinidad. The night was clear, the sky studded with a profusion of flashing stars, and the atmosphere of marvellous transparency; it was, in a word, one of those American nights that conduce to gentle reverie. The young men yielded involuntarily to the intoxicating charm of this exquisite evening; yielding to their thoughts, neither dreamed of resuming a conversation suddenly broken off by a bitter remark. For a long time they walked on thus, till they reached an angle in the road, where the track they were following divided into several branches. Here they halted. "We must separate here, Don Juan," the Jaguar said, "for we probably do not follow the same road." "That is true, friend, and I regret it," the Colonel answered, sadly, "for I should be so happy if I had you constantly by my side." "Thanks, friend, but you know that is impossible; let us, therefore, profit by the few moments left us to be together. Well, what have you done?"