Several hours had passed away thus; the morning was advanced, and Don Tadeo had despatched all his couriers. At this moment Don Ramón Sandias appeared.

"Well, Don Ramón," Don Tadeo said in a friendly accent, "you are still among us."

"Yes, Excellency," the senator replied.

"Have you cause to complain, Don Ramón?" asked Don Tadeo.

"Oh, no!" said the senator, "quite the contrary."

"I am ready to weep tears of blood when I reflect that I have allowed myself to be seduced by a silly ambition, which – "

"Well, what you have lost, if you like, I will restore to you," said Don Tadeo.

"Oh! speak! speak! what would I not do for that?"

"Even return among the Aucas?" said Don Tadeo.

"Why, no – "

"Stop a moment!" Don Tadeo interrupted; "this is what I expect of you: listen attentively."

"I listen, your Excellency," the senator replied, bowing humbly.

Don Gregorio entered.

"What is the matter?" asked Don Tadeo.

"The Indian named Joan, who once served you as a guide, has just arrived."

"Let him come in! let him come in!" cried Don Tadeo, rising.

Joan now entered.

"What brings you here?" asked Don Tadeo. "Speak! my friend!"

"The white chiefs are preparing to set out upon the track of Antinahuel."

"God bless them! they are noble hearts!" Don Tadeo exclaimed.

"My father was sad last night when he parted from us."

"Yes, yes," the poor father murmured.

"Before taking the track, Don Valentine felt his heart softened at the thoughts of the uneasiness you would doubtless experience; he therefore made his brother with the dove's eyes trace this necklace."

Saying these words, he drew out the letter which was carefully concealed under the ribbon that confined his hair, and presented it to Don Tadeo.

"Thanks!" cried the father as he placed the letter in his bosom and held out his hand graciously to the warrior; "thanks to those who sent you, and thanks to you, my brother: you shall remain with me, and when the moment arrives you shall conduct me to my daughter."

"I will do so; my father may depend upon me."

"I do depend upon you, Joan."

"I am at the service of my father, as is the horse which the warrior mounts," Joan replied, respectfully.

"One instant," said Don Tadeo, clapping his hands, to which a servant responded.

"I desire," he said, in an emphatic manner, "that every respect he paid to this warrior: he is my friend, and is at liberty to do just as he likes; let everything be given to him that he asks for."

The Indian warrior left the apartment.

"A noble nature!" cried Don Tadeo.

"Yes." said Don Ramón, "for a savage."

The King of Darkness was recalled to himself by the voice which thus mingled its harsh notes with his thoughts; his eyes fell upon the senator, whom he no longer thought of.

"Ah!" said he, "I had forgotten you, Don Ramón."

The latter bit his tongue and repented too late.

"Did you not tell me," Don Tadeo resumed, "that you would give a great deal to be at your hacienda?"

The senator shook his head affirmatively.

"I will offer you," Don Tadeo continued, "a chance of regaining the happiness you sigh for. You will set out immediately for Concepción. One would think you did not like the mission."

"I will go."

"That is well; a pleasant journey to you."

The senator asked —

"If the Araucanians surprise me, and get possession of this paper?"

"You will be shot – that's all," said Don Tadeo.

"Why, this is a trap!" the terrified senator exclaimed.

"You have but twenty minutes to make the preparations for your departure."

The senator seized the letter eagerly, and, without replying, rushed out of the room like a madman. Don Tadeo could not repress a smile at his extreme terror, and said to himself —

"Poor devil! he little suspects that I should be highly pleased if the Araucanians obtained the paper."

"Everything is ready," said Don Gregorio, entering.

"That is well. Let the troops be drawn up in two bodies just outside the city. Where is Joan?"

"I am here," the latter replied, coming forward.

"I wish to confide to my brother a mission of life and death."

"I will accomplish it, or die in the attempt."

"Deliver this necklace to the Spanish general, Fuentes, who commands in Concepción." Don Tadeo drew from his breast a dagger of a curious shape, the bronze knob of which served as a seal. "My brother will also take this dagger; on seeing it the general will know that Joan comes from me."

"Good," the warrior replied, taking the weapon.

"That weapon is poisoned – : the slightest scratch will inflict certain death."

"Oh – oh!" said the Indian, "that is indeed a good weapon! When shall I set out?"

"A horse shall be given to my brother, to whom I have only one more word to say: let him take care not to get killed; I would have him return to me."

"I shall come back again," said the Indian, confidently. "Farewell."

Don Tadeo and Don Gregorio left the cabildo. The orders of the King of Darkness had been executed with the greatest punctuality and promptitude. Two bodies of troops were drawn up; one, of nine hundred men, was charged with the attack on Arauca, the other, of nearly two thousand, under the immediate orders of Don Tadeo himself.

In addition to a numerous troop of cavalry, the Chilians took with them ten pieces of mountain artillery. The troops filed off at a quick step before the inhabitants, who saluted them with hearty shouts.

When they were about to separate, Don Tadeo took his friend aside.

"This evening, when you have established your camp for the night, Don Gregorio," he said, "you will give up the command to your lieutenant and rejoin me."

"That is understood; I thank you for the favour you confer upon me."

After a last shake of the hands the two leaders separated, to place themselves at the head of their respective troops, which were advancing rapidly into the plain.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE KITE AND THE DOVE

General Bustamente had taken advantage of the sudden good-will that Antinahuel had shown towards him; so that two days after the events we have related the Araucanian army was strongly entrenched upon the Bio Bio. Antinahuel, like an experienced chief, had established his camp at the summit of a wooded hill. A screen of trees had been left to conceal the presence of the army. The various contingents had arrived in great haste at the rendezvous, and more came in every minute. The total force of the army was, at that moment, about nine thousand men. Black Stag, with a troop of chosen warriors, beat the country in all directions, in order to surprise the enemy's scouts.

Antinahuel had retired under his toldo with the Linda and Doña Rosario. She bore upon her pale countenance traces of the fatigues she had undergone. She stood, with downcast eyes, before the Toqui.

"My brother sees that I have kept my promise," said the Linda.

"Yes," the Toqui replied; "I thank my sister."

"My brother is a great warrior, he has but one word; before entering the territories of the Huincas, it will be as well to determine the fate of his prisoner."

"This young maiden is not my prisoner," Antinahuel remarked; "she shall be my wife."

"So be it," said the Linda, shrugging her shoulders.

"My sister is fatigued," said the chief. "A toldo is prepared for my sister; she shall repose a few hours."

"Chief," she replied, "my body feels no fatigue; I am strong. Your mosotones were very kind to me."

"Their chief had ordered them to do so," Antinahuel said, gallantly.

"I thank you for having given these orders."

"I love my sister," said the Toqui.

The young lady did not at all understand this blunt declaration of love.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed, innocently, "you love me – you have pity on me."

"I will make every effort to make my sister happy."

"Oh! it would be so easy to do that, if you really wished it!" she cried.

"What must I do for that? I am ready to obey my sister."

"Is that really true?"

"Let my sister speak," said the chief.

"The tears of a poor girl can only render a great warrior like you sad!"

"That is truth," he remarked, mildly.

"Restore me to my friends!" she cried, in an excited manner.

Antinahuel drew back quite astounded, biting his lips with anger. The Linda burst into a loud laugh.

"You see," she said, "it is very easy for you to render her happy."

The chief knitted his brow still more ferociously.

"Come, brother," the Linda continued, "do not be angry; leave me to have a moment's chat with her."

"What to do?" the Toqui asked, impatiently.

"Caramba! why, to explain your intentions clearly to her."

"Well, then – "

"Only be so kind as to observe that in nowise will I answer for disposing her in your favour."

"Ah! To what purpose, then, will you talk?"

"I will undertake that, after our conversation, she shall know perfectly what she has to expect from you with regard to herself."

"My sister has a golden tongue – she will prevail."

"Hum! I do not think so; nevertheless I will try, in order to make myself agreeable," she added.

"Very well; and during that conversation I will visit the camp."

"Do so," said the Linda.

Antinahuel went out, after darting at the young girl a look which made her cast down her eyes. Left alone with Rosario, the Linda examined her for an instant with such an expression of malignant hatred, that the poor girl felt herself tremble. The sight of this woman produced upon her the strange effect attributed to the look of the serpent; she felt herself fascinated by the cold glance of the green eyes that were fixed upon her in a manner which she could not endure. After a few minutes the Linda said, in a cutting voice —

"Poor girl! Although you have been nearly a month a prisoner, can you at all divine what induced me to have carried you off?"

"I do not comprehend you, señora," the young lady replied, mildly; "your words are enigmas to me; I in vain endeavour to discover their meaning."

"Oh! poor, innocent thing!" the courtesan replied, with a mocking laugh; "and yet I fancy that on the night we were face to face at the village of San Miguel, I spoke to you pretty plainly."

"All it was possible for me to understand, señora, was, that you hate me."

"As the fact exists, of what importance is the reason? Yes, I hate you, insignificant thing! But I do not even know you! While avenging myself upon you, it is not you I hate; but the man who loves you; whose heart is broken at your tears! But the torments I reserve for you are nothing, if he is ignorant of them."

"God is just, señora," the maiden replied, firmly. "I do not know what crimes you meditate, but He will watch over me."

"God! miserable, puny creature!" cried the Linda. "God is but a word; He does not exist."

"He will not fail me, señora," Doña Rosario replied. "Beware! lest soon bowed by His powerful hand, you, in your turn, may implore His mercy in vain."

"Begone, miserable child; your threats only inspire me with contempt."

"I do not threaten, señora; I am an unfortunate young girl. I only endeavour to soften you."

"Vain are your prayers," she added; "when my hour comes I will ask for no more mercy than I have had for you."

"God pardon you the evil you wish to do."

For the second time the Linda experienced an indefinable emotion, of which she in vain sought to explain the cause; but she fortified herself against this secret presentiment which appeared to warn her that her vengeance would mislead herself.

"Listen!" she said, in a short, sharp tone; "it was I who had you carried off, as you are aware; but you know not for what purpose, do you? The man who has just left us, Antinahuel, the chief of the Araucanos, is a vile wretch! He has conceived a passion for you, an impure, monstrous passion. His mother wished to divert his mind from this passion, and he killed his mother."

"Oh!" the young girl exclaimed, penetrated with horror.

"You tremble, do you not?" the Linda continued; "that man is an abject being! He has no heart but for crime! He knows no laws but those which his passions and vices impose upon him! Well, this hideous being – this odious villain loves you; I tell you he is in love with you – do you understand me?"

"Oh, you cannot have sold me to this man!" the maiden shrieked in a state of stupefaction.

"I have," she replied, grinding her teeth; "and were it to be begun again, I would do it again! Oh, you do not know what happiness I experience in seeing you, a white dove, rolled in the mud."

"But have you no heart, señora?"

"No, I no longer have; it is long since it was tortured and broken by despair."

For a moment the maiden was overcome.

"Pity, señora!" she cried, in a piercing tone; "oh, you have said you had a heart once! You have loved! In the name of him you loved, have pity – pity for me."

"No, no pity, none was felt for me!" and she pushed her away.

"Señora! in the name of one you have loved, pity."

"I love nothing now but vengeance!" she cried; "it is good to hate; a woman forgets her insults through it."

Doña Rosario did not hear these frightful words; a prey to despair, she continued to weep and supplicate; but the word child struck her ear; a light flashed across her brain.

"Oh, señora!" she cried, "I knew you were good, and that I should succeed in softening you!"

"What does this folly mean?" said the Linda.

"Señora!" Rosario implored, "you have had children! you have loved them! oh, loved them dearly!"

"Silence, unhappy wretch!" cried the Linda; "silence; speak not to me of my daughter!"

"Yes," Rosario continued, "that is it; it was a daughter. Oh, you adored her, señora!"

"Adored my daughter!" cried the Linda, with the roar of a hyena.

"In the name of that beloved daughter, pity!"

The Linda broke suddenly into a frantic laugh. "Miserable fool! what a remembrance have you evoked! – It is to avenge my daughter! my daughter! who was stolen from me, that I wish to make of you the most unhappy of creatures."

Doña Rosario remained for an instant as if struck by a thunderbolt, but looking the courtesan full in the face, said —

"Señora, you have no heart – be then accursed. As to me, I shall be taught how to extricate myself from the outrages you vainly threaten me with."

And, with a movement as quick as thought, she snatched from the girdle of the Linda a narrow, sharp-pointed dagger.

The Linda sprang towards her.

"Stop, señora," the maiden said to her, resolutely; "one step farther, and I stab myself! Oh, I no longer fear you!"

Doña Rosarios look was so firm, her countenance so determined, that the Linda stopped.

"Well," Rosario resumed, with a smile of contempt, "you no longer triumph now; you are no longer certain of your vengeance; let the man you threaten me with dare to approach me, and I will plunge this dagger into my heart."

The Linda looked at her, but made no reply; she was conquered.

At that moment a great tumult was heard in the camp; hurried steps approached the toldo in which the two women were. The Linda resumed her seat, and composed her features. Doña Rosario, with a joyful smile, concealed the dagger.

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE END OF DON RAMÓN'S JOURNEY

In the meantime Don Ramón had left Valdivia. This time the senator was alone – alone with his horse, a poor, lean, half-foundered beast, which hobbled along with its head and ears down, and appeared in all points to harmonise with the sad thoughts which doubtless occupied its master's mind.

The future by no means appeared to him pleasant. He had left Valdivia under a threat of death; at every step he expected to be aimed at by some invisible gun. Being conscious that he could not impose upon the enemies, doubtless disseminated over his route, by any appearance of strength or power, he determined to impose upon them by his weakness – that is to say, he got rid of all his arms. At a few leagues distance from Valdivia he had been passed by Joan. Don Ramón watched him for a long time with a look of envy.

"What happy fellows these Indians are!" he grumbled; "the desert belongs to them. Ah!" he added, with a sigh; "if I were but at Casa Azul."

Casa Azul was the senator's quinta – that quinta with white walls, green blinds, and leafy bowers, which he so much regretted having left in a moment of silly ambition, and which he never hoped to see again. When he passed by a wood, or along a narrow way between two mountains, he cast terrified glances around him, and entered the suspicious passage, murmuring —

"This is where they are waiting for me!"

And when the wood was passed, and the dangerous lane cleared, instead of felicitating himself upon being still safe and sound, he said, with a shake of the head —

"Hum! the Pícaros! they know very well I cannot escape them, and they are playing with me as a cat does with a mouse."

And yet two days had passed away without a mishap, nothing had occurred to corroborate the senator's suspicions and uneasiness. He had that morning crossed the ford of the Carampangne, and was drawing near to the Bio Bio which he hoped to reach by sunset.

But the Bio Bio had to be crossed, and there lay the difficulty. The river has but one ford, a little above Concepción. The senator knew it perfectly well but a secret presentiment told him not to approach it. Unfortunately Don Ramón had no choice, he could take no other road.

The senator hesitated as long as Cæsar did at the famous passage of the Rubicon; at length, as there were no means of doing otherwise, Don Ramón very unwillingly spurred on his horse, and advanced towards the ford, recommending himself to the protection of all the saints of the Spanish golden legend.

The horse was tired, but the smell of the water renovated its strength, and it cantered gaily on with the infallible instinct of these noble beasts, without pausing in the inextricable windings which crossed each other in the high grass. Although the river was not yet visible, Don Ramón could hear the roaring of the waters. He was passing by, at the moment, a dark hill, from the thickly-wooded sides of which proceeded, at intervals, sounds which he could not make out. The animal too, as much alarmed as its master, pricked up its ears and redoubled its speed. Don Ramón scarcely ventured to breathe, and looked in all directions with the greatest terror. He was close to the ford, when suddenly a rough voice smote his ear and rendered him as motionless as if he had been changed into a block of marble. Half a score Indian warriors surrounded him on all sides; these warriors were commanded by Black Stag.

It was a strange circumstance, but when the first moment of terror was past, the senator completely recovered himself – now that he knew what he had to trust to, the danger which he had so long dreaded was before him, but less terrific than he had supposed it to be. Black Stag examined him carefully, and at length placed his hand upon the bridle of his horse, saying, as he endeavoured to recall a half-effaced remembrance —

"It seems to me that I have seen the paleface somewhere?"

"To be sure," the senator replied; "we are old friends."

"I am not the friend of the Huincas," the Indian said, sternly.

"I mean," Don Ramón corrected himself, "we are old acquaintances."

"Good! what is the Chiapla doing here?"

"Hum!" the senator said; "I am doing nothing."

"Let the paleface reply clearly; a chief is questioning him," Black Stag said, frowning.

"I ask no better," Don Ramón replied, in a conciliating tone. "Question me."

"Where is the paleface going?"

"Where am I going? When you stopped me I was preparing to cross the Bio Bio."

"Good! And when you had crossed the Bio Bio?"

"Oh, then I should have hastened to gain my quinta, which I am very sorry I ever quitted."

"Doubtless the paleface is charged with some mission?"

"Who, I?" said the senator, in the most careless way possible; "Who do you think would charge me with a mission?"

"Good! Where is the necklace?"

"What necklace do you mean?"

"The one which you have to deliver to the chief of Concepción."

"Who! I?"

"Yes, you."

"I have none."

"My brother speaks well: Aucas warriors are not women, they know how to discover what is hidden."

Any resistance was impossible, and if it had not been, Don Ramón was not the man to have attempted it; hence he obeyed, and his horse was led away.

"The paleface will follow me," Black Stag commanded.

"Hum!" said Don Ramón, "where are you going?"

"To the Toqui and the Great Eagle of the Whites."

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" said Don Ramón to himself.

The warriors led their prisoner among the coppice. After a short ascent they arrived at the camp. General Bustamente and Antinahuel were conversing as they walked about.

"What have you there?" asked the general.

"A prisoner," Black Stag replied.

"Eh, what!" said the general, "it is my honourable friend, Don Ramón!"

"Yes – worse luck – "

"How can that be? Were you not seeking me?"

"God forbid!" the senator cried.

"Look there, now; why, then, where were you going alone thus?"

"I was going to my own home."

The general and Antinahuel exchanged a few words.

"Come with us, Don Ramón," the general rejoined, "the Toqui wishes to have some conversation."

"With pleasure," said Don Ramón; and cursing his evil star he followed the two men into the toldo.

The warriors who had brought the senator remained without, to execute the orders they might receive.

"You said," the general continued, as soon as they were in the toldo, "that you were going home at Casa Azul."

"Yes, general."

"Why that sigh? nothing that I am aware of will be opposed to the continuation of your journey."

"Do you mean that?" the senator exclaimed.

"Hum! that depends entirely upon yourself."

"How so?"

"Deliver up to the Toqui the order which Don Tadeo de León has charged you."

"What order do you mean, general?"

"Why, the one you probably have."

"You are mistaken, general; I am not charged with any mission to General Fuentes, I am sure."

"And yet the Toqui asserts the contrary."

"This man lies; he must have a necklace," said Antinahuel.

"It is very easy to ascertain that." said the general, coolly. "Black Stag, my friend, please to have this caballero suspended by the thumbs to the next tree."

The senator shuddered.

"I beg you to observe," the general continued, "that we do not commit the rudeness of searching you."

"But I assure you I have no order."

"Bah! and I am certain you will find one – there is nothing like being suspended by the thumbs."

"Come," said Black Stag.

The senator bounded away from him with fear.

"Well, I think I recollect – " he stammered.

"There, you see."

"That I am the bearer of a letter."

"Just as I said you were."

"But I am ignorant of its contents."

"Caramba! that is very likely."

"Well, to General Fuentes, I suppose. But if I give you up the paper shall I be free?" he asked.

"Hum! the position is changed. If you had given it up with a good grace I could have guaranteed your freedom."

"Still!"

"Come, give it to me."

"Here it is," said the senator, drawing it from his bosom.

The general took the paper, ran his eye rapidly over it, then drawing Antinahuel to the other extremity of the toldo, they talked together for some minutes in a low voice. At length the general turned towards the senator.

"Unhappy fool!" he said, sternly; "Is it thus you betray me, after the proofs of friendship I have given you?"

"I assure you, general – " the other began.

"Silence, you miserable spy!" the general replied; "You wished to sell me to my enemies, but God has not permitted the execution of so black a project."

The senator was annihilated.

"Take away this man," said Antinahuel.

The poor wretch struggled in vain in the hands of the Indian warriors, who seized him roughly, and dragged him out of the toldo, in spite of his cries and tears. Black Stag led them to the foot of an enormous espino, whose thick branches formed a wide shadow on the hill. When they arrived there, Don Ramón made a last and powerful effort, escaped from the hands of his surprised guards, and darted away like a madman up the steep acclivity of the mountain.

But this wild race lasted only a few minutes, and quite exhausted his strength. When the Indian warriors overtook him, which they easily did, terror had already nearly killed him. The warriors placed the noose of a lasso round his neck, and then threw it up over the principal branch of the espino. But he was dead when they hanged him – fright had killed him. It was written that poor Don Ramón Sandias, the victim of a foolish ambition, should never see Casa Azul again.