"That concerns me, my dear count. Thank heaven, the well-known honour of your character places you above all suspicion; and who knows, perhaps your stay here, however short it may be, will not prove useless to the cause you serve." "What do you mean? Pray explain yourself, my friend, for I do not understand you." "You will soon do so; but for the present I shall feel obliged by your not pressing the point." "Very good; I will await a more propitious moment to obtain from you the double explanation you promise me." At this moment the door opened, and Don Melchior appeared. He bowed. "Well, Don Melchior, what good wind has brought you here?" Don Aníbal asked with a smile. "The Señor Conde's horses are ready, father," he replied; "his people are only awaiting his pleasure." "Be good enough, my dear boy," the hacendero remarked, "to tell the criados to take his Excellency's horses back to the stable, and to unload the mules. The count does not start tonight, but deigns to spend it under our humble roof." "Still--" the count objected. "You have promised me," Don Aníbal said quickly. "Well, be it so," said the count, with his eyes fixed on the young man, who was standing respectfully in the doorway. At a sign from the hacendero, Melchior bowed, and left the room. The count remained pensive for some moments, and then turned to his host. "Have you not your old majordomo?" he asked him. "Certainly. Why do you ask the question?" "I fancied that young man had taken his place." "Oh, no! That young man is not even one of my servants." "Ah!" "He is an orphan I have brought up." "It is strange that I should have never seen him before." "I presume you never noticed him before now." "That is possible," the count said, suppressing a sigh, "still, it seems to me, I know not why, that had I seen him before, his face would not have passed out of my memory; there is something about it which struck me. Have you had him long?" "He was six years old, I believe, when Sotavento brought him to me. Since that time he has constantly been with me; he is, I think, of Indian origin, although his features are more marked than those of the redskins, and his complexion whiter; but that means nothing on the border, where crossings of breed are so frequent." "That is true," the count murmured, as he passed his hand over his forehead, as if to drive away a painful thought; "forgive me, my friend, I do not know where my head was; the questions I asked you must have appeared to you most indiscreet." "Not at all; I am greatly attached to this young man, who deserves in every respect all that I have done for him. Hence I can only feel flattered when others beside myself take an interest in him, for it proves that I was not deceived with respect to him. Now, that it is arranged you will not start till tomorrow--" "At sunrise," the count interrupted. "Very good," the hacendero continued; "permit me to discharge a mission I have undertaken toward you."