And he followed this man in a strange stupefaction. They arrived beneath the balcony of Sarah. Suddenly, before she had time to utter a cry, Martin Paz appeared to her, like a phantom from another world; and, like the negro when overthrown by the Indian, the young girl, bending before the glance of Martin Paz, could in her turn only repeat these words, "It is you, then! it is you!" The young Indian fixed on her his motionless eyes, and said: "Does the betrothed hear the sound of the festival? The guests are thronging into the saloons to see happiness radiate from her countenance! Is it then a victim, prepared for the sacrifice, who is about to present herself to their impatient eyes? Is it with these features, pale with sorrow, with eyes in which sparkle bitter tears, that the young girl is to appear herself before her betrothed?" Martin Paz spoke thus, in a tone full of sympathizing sadness, and Sarah listened vaguely as to those harmonies which we hear in dreams! The young Indian resumed with infinite sweetness: "Since the soul of the young girl is in mourning, let her look beyond the house of her father, beyond the city where she suffers and weeps; beyond the mountains, the palm-trees lift up their heads in freedom, the birds strike the air with an independent wing; men have immensity to live in, and the young girls may unfold their spirits and their hearts!" Sarah raised her head toward Martin Paz. The Indian had drawn himself up to his full height, and with his arm extended toward the summits of the Cordilleras, was pointing out to the young girl the path to liberty. Sarah felt herself constrained by an irresistible force. Already the sound of voices reached her; they approached her chamber; her father was undoubtedly about to enter; perhaps her lover would accompany him! The Indian suddenly extinguished the lamp suspended above his head. A whistling, similar to the cry of the _cilguero_, and reminding one of that heard on the Plaza-Mayor, pierced the silent darkness of night; the young girl swooned. The door opened hastily; Samuel and Andre Certa entered. The darkness was profound; some servants ran with torches. The chamber was empty. "Death and fury!" exclaimed the mestizo. "Where is she?" asked Samuel. "You are responsible for her," said Andre, brutally. At these words, the Jew felt a cold sweat freeze even his bones. "Help! help!" he exclaimed. And, followed by his domestics, he sprang out of the house. Martin Paz fled rapidly through the streets of the city. The negro Liberta followed him; but did not appear disposed to dispute with him the possession of the young girl. At two hundred paces from the dwelling of the Jew, Paz found some Indians of his companions, who had assembled at the whistle uttered by him. "To our mountain _ranchos_!" exclaimed he. "To the house of the Marquis Don Vegal!" said another voice behind him. Martin Paz turned; the Spaniard was at his side.