"Ah!" the first speaker observed with indifference. "Here it is; this man was the bearer of a necklace." "A letter, by Heavens!" the other exclaimed anxiously; "What have you done with it? You have not destroyed it, I trust?" "No, the Chief has kept it." "You did well. Show it to me, perhaps it is important." "Wah! It is some medicine of the Palefaces; a Chief does not want it; my brother can take it." "Thanks!" There was a moment's silence, during which the hearts of the three hearers might have been heard beating in unison, so great was their anxiety. "By Jove!" the white man suddenly burst out; "A letter addressed to Colonel Don Juan Melendez de Gongora, Commandant of the Larch-tree, by General Rubio. You were in luck's way, Chief. Are you sure that the bearer of this letter is dead?" "It was Blue-fox who killed him." "In that case I feel confident, for I can trust to you. Now, this is what you must do: so soon as----" But while speaking thus, the two men had withdrawn, and the sound of their voices was lost in the distance, so that it was impossible to hear the termination of the sentence, or guess its purport. The two women turned round. Tranquil had disappeared, and they were again alone. Carmela, after listening to this strange conversation, of which accident allowed her to catch a few fragments, had fallen into a profound reverie, which her companion, with that sense of propriety innate in Indians, was careful not to disturb. In the meanwhile, time slipped away, the gloom grew denser in the grotto, for night had set in; the two young women, afraid to remain alone in the obscurity, were preparing to rejoin their companions, when they heard the sound of footsteps, and Tranquil entered. "What!" he said to them, "Not ready yet? Make haste to put on your masculine attire, for every minute is an age." The girls did not allow this to be repeated; they disappeared in an adjoining compartment, and returned a few minutes later, entirely disguised. "Good," the Canadian said, after examining them for a moment; "we are going to try and enter the Larch-tree hacienda. Now follow me, and be prudent." The eight persons left the grotto, gliding along in the darkness like phantoms. No one, unless he has tried the experiment, can imagine what a night march on the desert is, when you are afraid each moment of falling into the hands of invisible enemies, who watch you behind every bush. Tranquil had placed himself at the head of the little party, who marched in Indian file, at times stooping to the ground, going on his hands and knees, or crawling on his stomach so as to avoid notice.