"Thanks for that remark, General. The opinion you have of me, restores me the courage to complete my confession. Yes, I repeat, I have committed one bad action, the memory of which has incessantly pursued me and filled me with remorse. One day I was a coward." "Go on," the general interrupted him, with a shake of his head. "You know," the adventurer continued, with a certain degree of hesitation, and looking down to the ground, "that nearly my whole life has been spent, in traversing the woods, either alone, or in the company of the Indians." "I know it; go on." "You lived on this border for a long time; you will doubtless remember the frightful catastrophe in which the Count de Melgosa's brother was assassinated?" "Wretch! Were you mixed up in that frightful affair?" the general exclaimed. "No," the Canadian answered with a start of horror, "and yet I was guilty. The count's son was carried off: do you remember it?" "Alas! The count has never recovered from the effects of that abduction." "When the redskins returned from that sanguinary expedition, bringing the poor lad with them, there was a grand discussion among them to decide the fate of the weak creature. The majority wished him to be killed, while others asserted, on the other hand, that the child ought to be preserved, in order to be converted into a hostage at a later date. I was present at this discussion; the poor boy cried; I felt an involuntary interest in him, and implored the Indians to give him to me. I succeeded in convincing them by my intreaties, and they granted my request." "Well?" the general asked anxiously. "A few weeks later," the Canadian continued, "the Mexican hacenderos took a brilliant revenge. The redskins, surprised in their turn, were massacred without pity. Nothing would have been easier for me at the time than to restore to the heart-broken father the boy who had been so treacherously carried off; but I had sworn not to do so; it was on that condition he was intrusted to me. I did not dare break my promise; still, taking advantage of the confusion, I tried to evade it. I placed the boy in the hands of a servant of Don Aníbal, begging him to deliver him to his master, as I felt convinced that he would be taken care of, and that at a later date I might perhaps be able to restore him alive to the parent who bewailed his death. Years passed, and various events kept me away from these parts, to which I had only accidentally come. Still the memory of this boy incessantly pursued me; my conscience cried to me that I had acted badly. In a word, my remorse became so great that I resolved to return to this country in order to discover the fate of the poor boy I had abandoned, and repair, were it in my power, the evil I had done." "Good, my friend--good," the general exclaimed, warmly, "now I recognize you. Still, has your search been successful, and have you found the count's son again?"