CHAPTER XXIX.

  THE AMBUSCADE.

  If the lightning had struck the ground at the Spanish girl's feet, itwould not have caused her greater terror than this revelation, which shewas far from expecting, made in a dear, dry, and unmoved voice.

  Her features were contracted--the blood mounted to her head--shetottered on her horse, and would have fallen off, had not Valentine heldher. But overcoming by the strength of her will the terrible emotionthat troubled her, she repulsed the young man, saying in a firm voice,and with an implacable accent:

  "You are well informed, sir; such is my intention."

  Valentine felt momentarily stupefied. He regarded this woman, who hadhardly emerged from childhood, whose lovely features, distorted by thepassions that agitated them, had become almost hideous: he recalled, asin a dream, another woman nearly as cruel whom he had once known. Anindescribable feeling of sorrow pervaded his heart at the terriblereminiscence thus suddenly evoked. So much perfidity seemed to him to gobeyond the limits of human wickedness; and for an instant he almostfancied himself in the presence of a demon.

  "And you dare confess it to me?" he at length said, with badly concealedterror.

  "And why not? What can you do to me? Kill me! A glorious revenge for abrave man! And, besides, what do I care for life? Who knows? perhaps,without wishing it, and fancying you are punishing me, you would do mean uncommon service by killing me."

  "Kill you? Nonsense," the hunter said, with a smile of contempt."Creatures of your kind are not killed. In the first flush of passion wecrush them under our boot heel, like venomous reptiles: but, onreflection, we prefer plucking out their teeth. That is what I havedone, viper? Now bite if you dare!"

  A fearful rage took possession of the Spanish girl; she raised her whip,and with a movement more rapid than thought struck Valentine across theface, merely hissing the word:

  "Coward!"

  At this insult the hunter lost his coolness. He drew a pistol and firedit point blank at this woman, who sat before him motionless, andsmiling. But she had not lost one of the Frenchman's movements out ofsight. She made her horse leap on one side, and the bullet whistledinoffensively past her ear.

  At the sound of the firing, the hunters felt alarmed, and they gallopedup to the spot, to inquire what had occurred. The shot had been scarcefired ere Pedro Sandoval, who had hitherto listened with apparentindifference to the conversation, dashed at Valentine, brandishing along knife which he had managed to conceal.

  The hunter, who had regained his presence of mind, awaited him firmly;and as the pirate came up to him, he stopped him short with a bulletthrough his body. The villain rolled on the ground with a yell ofdisappointed rage.

  The Spanish girl looked around her disdainfully, made her horse bound,and started at an incredible pace amidst the bullets that whizzed roundher from all sides, crying in a hoarse voice:--

  "We shall meet again, soon, Valentine. Till then, farewell."

  The hunter would not allow her to be pursued, and she soon disappearedin the tall grass.

  "Oh, oh, this scamp seems to me very ill," the general said, afterdismounting. "What the deuce shall we do with him?"

  "Hang him!" Valentine observed, drily.

  "Well," the general continued, "that is not such a bad idea. In thatway, we shall get rid of one of the villains, and, on reflection, thatwill prevent him feeling the pain of his wound."

  "Let us finish with him," Don Miguel interrupted.

  "_Caspita!_ what a hurry you are in, my friend," the general answered."Hum! I am certain he is not in such haste--are you, my good fellow?"

  "Come," Valentine said, with that mocking expression he had through hisParisian birth, and which broke out at intervals--"our friend is inluck. He has fallen at the foot of a splendid tree, which will form anobservatory whence he can admire the landscape at his ease. Curumilla,my worthy fellow, climb up the tree, and bend down that branch as muchas you can."

  Curumilla, according to his laudable habit, executed immediately theorder given him, though without uttering a word.

  "Now, my good fellow," the hunter continued, addressing the wounded man,"if you are not a thorough Pagan, and can recollect any prayer, I shouldrecommend you to repeat it, for it will do you more good than ever itdid."

  And, raising Sandoval in his arms, who maintained a gloomy silence, hepassed the cord round his neck.

  "One moment," Curumilla remarked, as he seized with his left hand thebandit's thick hair.

  "That is true," said the hunter. "It is your right, chief, so make useof it."

  The Indian did not wait for this to be repeated. In a second he hadscalped the Spaniard, who looked at him with flashing eyes, and coldlyplaced the dripping scalp in his girdle. Valentine turned away his headin disgust at this hideous sight, but the Spaniard did not give vent toa groan.

  As soon as he had placed the running noose round the bandit's neck,Valentine threw the cord to Curumilla, who attached it firmly to thebranch, and then came down again.

  "Now that justice is done, let us go," said Valentine.

  The witnesses of the execution remounted. The branch which had been helddown flew back, bearing with it the body of the pirate.

  Pedro Sandoval remained alone, quivering in the last convulsions ofdeath.

  So soon as Valentine and his comrades were out of sight, severalApaches, at the head of whom were Red Cedar and the White Gazelle,started out of a thicket. An Indian climbed up the tree, cut the rope,and the body of the Spaniard was gently laid on the ground. He did notgive a sign of existence.

  The girl and Red Cedar hastened to give him help, in order to recalllife, were it possible, to this poor and fearfully mutilated body; butall their efforts seemed futile. Pedro Sandoval remained cold and inertin the arms of his friends. In vain had they removed the slip knotwhich pressed his throat--his swollen and blue veins would not diminishin size, or his blood circulate. All seemed over.

  As a last chance, an Apache took a skinful of water, and poured thecontents on the bare and bleeding skull of the Spaniard. At the contactof this cold shower, his whole body trembled, a deep sigh burst with aneffort from his oppressed chest, and the dying man painfully opened hiseyes, fixing a sad and languishing glance on those who surrounded him.

  "Heaven be praised!" said the girl; "He is not dead."

  The bandit looked at the girl with that glassy and wandering stare whichis the infallible sign of a speedy death; a smile played round hisviolet lips, and he muttered in a low and inarticulate voice:

  "No, I am not dead, but I shall soon be so."

  Then he closed his eyes again, and fell back, apparently in his formerstate of insensibility. The spectators anxiously followed the progressof this frightful agony: White Gazelle frowned, and, bending over thedying man, put her mouth to his ear.

  "Do you hear me, Sandoval?" she said to him.

  The bandit suddenly quivered, as if he had received an electric shock.He turned toward the speaker, and partially opened his eyes.

  "Who is near me?" he asked.

  "I, Pedro. Do you not recognise me, old comrade?" Red Cedar said.

  "Yes," the Pirate said, peevishly, "I recognise you; but it was not youI wished to see."

  "Whom do you mean?"

  "The Nina. Has she abandoned me too--she, for whom I am dying!"

  "No, I have not abandoned you," the girl quickly interrupted him; "yourreproach is unjust--for it was I who succoured you. Here I am, father."

  "Ah," he said, with a sigh of satisfaction, "you are there, Nina; allthe better. God, if there be a God, will reward you for what you havedone."

  "Do not speak of that, but tell me why you asked for me, father."

  "Do not give me that name," the bandit said violently; "I am not yourfather!"

  There was a moment's silence; at length the Pirate continued, in analmost indistinct voice, and as if speaking to himself--

  "The hand of God is in this--it was He who decreed that at the lastmoment the daugh
ter of the victim should see one of the principalassassins die."

  He shook his head piteously, sighed and added, mournfully--

  "That is the hand of God."

  His hearers looked at each other silently; an instinctive fear, aspecies of superstitious terror had seized upon them, and they did notdare question this man. A few minutes elapsed.

  "Oh, how I suffer!" he suddenly muttered; "my head is a red-hotfurnace--give me drink."

  Water was quickly brought him, but he repulsed it, saying--

  "No, not water--I want to regain my strength."

  "What will you have, then?" Red Cedar asked him.

  "Give me aguardiente."

  "Oh!" the girl said imploringly; "do not drink spirits--they will killyou."

  The bandit grinned horribly.

  "Kill me?" he said, "Why, am I not a dead man already, poor fool?"

  The White Gazelle gave Red Cedar a glance.

  "Let us do what he wishes," the latter whispered; "he is a lost man."

  "Aguardiente," the sufferer said again; "make haste, if you do not wishme to die ere I have spoken."

  Red Cedar seized his gourd, and in spite of the girl's entreaties,thrust the neck between the pirate's lips. Sandoval drank deeply.

  "Ah!" he said, with a sigh of satisfaction; "at present I feel strong. Idid not believe that it was so difficult to die. Well, if there be aGod, may His will be done. Red Cedar, give me one of your pistols, andleave me your gourd."

  The squatter did as his comrade requested.

  "Very good," he went on; "now, retire all of you; I have to speak withthe Nina."

  Red Cedar could not conceal his dissatisfaction.

  "Why weary yourself?" he said; "it would be better for you to let us payyou that attention your condition demands."

  "Oh!" the bandit said, with a grin, "I understand you; you would soonersee me die like a dog, without uttering a syllable, for you suspect whatI am about to say--well, I feel sorry for you, gossip, but I must andwill speak."

  The squatter shrugged his shoulders.

  "What do I care for your wanderings?" he said; "It is only the interestI feel in you that--"

  "Enough!" Sandoval interrupted him, sharply. "Silence! I will speak! nohuman power can force me in my dying hours to keep the secret longer; ithas been rankling in my bosom too long already."

  "My good father--" the girl murmured.

  "Peace," the bandit went on authoritatively, "do not oppose my will,Nina. You must learn from me certain things before I render my accountsto Him who sees everything."

  Red Cedar fixed a burning glance on the dying man, as he convulsivelyclutched the butt of a pistol; but he suddenly loosed his hold, andsmiled ironically.

  "What do I care?" he said; "It is too late now."

  Sandoval heard him.

  "Perhaps so," he replied; "Heaven alone knows."

  "We shall see," the squatter retorted, sarcastically.

  He made a signal; the Apaches retired silently with him, and the girlremained alone near the dying man.

  White Gazelle was a prey to an extraordinary emotion, for which shecould not account; she experienced a curiosity mingled with terror, thatcaused her a strange oppression and trouble. She regarded the man lyinghalf dead at her feet, and who while writhing in atrocious pain, fixedon her a glance full of indescribable pity and irony.

  She feared, and yet desired that the bandit should make to her thegloomy confession she expected. Something told her that on this man herlife and future fortune depended. But he remained gloomy and dumb.