But the pirate was a man of resources; he replaced his pistols in his belt, and raising the wounded man, he threw him over his shoulders. Loaded with his burden, which scarcely seemed to lessen his speed, he hastily returned to the camp by the way he had left it. He deposited the guide close to a half-extinguished brazier, into which he threw an armful of dry wood to revive it. A clear blaze soon enabled him to examine the man who lay senseless at his feet. The features of the Babbler were livid, a cold perspiration stood in drops upon his temples, and the blood flowed in abundance from a wound in his breast. "_Cascaras!_" the captain muttered; "here is a poor devil who has got his business done! I hope before he departs he will, however, tell me who has done him this favour, and what has become of Kennedy!" Like all the wood rangers, the captain possessed a small practical knowledge of medicine; it was nothing new to him to dress a shot wound. Thanks to the attentions he lavished on the bandit, the latter was not long in coming to himself. He breathed a heavy sigh, opened his haggard eyes, but remained for some time unable to speak; after several fruitless efforts, however, aided by the captain, he succeeded in sitting up, and shaking his head repeatedly, he murmured in a low, broken voice: "All is lost, captain! Our plan has failed!" "A thousand thunders!" the captain cried, stamping his feet with rage. "How has this happened?" "The girl is a demon!" the guide replied, whose difficult respiration and gradually weaker voice showed that he had but a few minutes to live. "If you can manage, anyhow," said the captain, who had understood nothing by the exclamation of the wounded man, "tell me how things have gone on, and who is your assassin, that I may avenge you." A sinister smile painfully crossed the violet lips of the guide. "The name of my assassin?" he said, in an ironical tone. "Yes." "Well, her name is Doña Luz." "Doña Luz!" the captain cried, starting with surprise, "impossible!" "Listen," the guide resumed; "my moments are numbered; I shall soon be a dead man. In my position people don't lie. Let me speak without interrupting me. I don't know whether I shall have time to tell you all, before I go to render my account to Him who knows everything." "Speak!" said the captain. And, as the voice of the wounded man became weaker and weaker, he went down upon his knees close to him, in order to lose none of his words. The guide closed his eyes, collected himself for a few seconds, and then, with great effort, said,-- "Give me some brandy?" "You must be mad! brandy will kill you!" The wounded man shook his head. "It will give me the necessary strength to enable me to tell you all I have to say. Am I not already half dead!" "That's true," muttered the captain. "Do not hesitate, then," the wounded man replied, who had heard him; "time presses; I have important things to inform you of."