"The most strict truth, my lord, on my honour." "I believe you, my friend; but finish." "Oh, I have nothing much more to add, except that they informed me that, in case you refused to accept this condition, you would be inevitably attacked." "And about Malco? Did they tell you nothing more about him?" "Not a word, my lord." "So that you are completely unaware where this wretch hides himself?" "Absolutely, my lord; I thought that what the Guaycurus chief had told me was of such great importance, that you would desire to be informed of it as soon as possible, so I have returned as rapidly as I could." "You have done well, my friend; I thank you. But in such circumstances as these," he asked, "how would you act?" "I should beat a retreat." "Beat a retreat; never!" "Then we shall be massacred to the last man." "No matter, I will push ahead. You will not abandon me?" "I, my lord? My duty is to follow you; wherever you go I will follow. What is it to me to be killed?" And after having respectfully saluted the young man, the captain withdrew with as tranquil and careless a step as though he were not certain beforehand that the order just given him was equivalent to a condemnation to death. When he was alone the marquis remained an instant motionless; then, stamping his foot with rage, and darting to heaven a look of defiance-- "Oh!" cried he, with a stifled voice, "These cursed diamonds; I will have them, although it were necessary, in seizing them, to walk in blood up to the girdle." CHAPTER IX. THROUGH THE DESERT. While, according to his orders, the captain of the soldados da conquista caused the camp to be raised and the mules to be laden, preparing everything for an immediate departure, the marquis--a prey to a terrible agitation--strode about his tent, cursing the fate which appeared to dog his steps, and obstinately to destroy his most skilful plans, constantly removing far from him at the moment when he thought to seize it, the rich treasure that he coveted--a treasure which, since he had laid himself out to seek it, had cost him so much fatigue and weariness of every kind, and for which he had during so long a time braved immense perils, and almost lost his honour. Suddenly he stopped, striking his forehead. A new idea crossed his mind, giving a brightness to his eye; he tore a page from his pocketbook, wrote some words in haste, and gave it to a slave, ordering him to carry it, on his part, to doña Laura Antonia de Cabral. The day was splendidly beautiful; the sun had risen, radiant on the horizon in waves of purple and gold; the morning breeze gently refreshed the atmosphere, and the birds, timidly perched under the foliage, sang with full vigour their joyous songs. All was joy and happiness in that scene, so calm and majestic, which the hand of man had not yet deformed.