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"Marcos Arellanos!" he stammered out in a weak voice, "who told you that? I did not kill him!" Fabian smiled bitterly. "Who tells the shepherd," he cried, "where the den of the jaguar is to be found that devours his sheep? "Who tells the vaquero where the horse that he pursues has taken refuge? "To the Indian, the enemy he seeks? "To the gold-seeker the ore, concealed by God?
The glances of the two Medianas crossed like two swords, and Diaz contemplated, with mingled astonishment and respect, the adopted son of the gambusino Arellanos, suddenly transformed and raised above the humble sphere in which he had for an instant known him. The adventurer awaited the solution of this enigma. Fabian armed himself with a pride which equalled that of the Duke de Armada.
The widow of Arellanos had told him all she knew of his early history of the gigantic sailor who had nursed him; but it never occurred to Tiburcio that the great trapper by his side, a coureur de bois of the American wilderness could ever have been a seaman much less that one of whom he had heard and read, and who was believed to have been his father.
"Of the Count Mediana?" repeated Don Augustin. "Yes," cried Rosarita, passionately; "I still love in him Tiburcio Arellanos, however noble, powerful, and rich may be at this hour Count Fabian de Mediana." Noble, powerful, and rich, are words that sound well in the ear of an ambitious father, when applied to a young man whom he loves and esteems, but whom he believes to be poor.
Cuchillo approaching the body, bent down to examine the features, and see if there were any signs of life. At the first glance of that face the outlaw trembled. "Tiburcio Arellanos, as I live!" he involuntarily muttered. It was, in truth, the adopted son of his victim whom he saw before him. "Yes there is no mistake it is he!
The revelations of Cuchillo in regard to the adopted son of Marcos Arellanos had opened his mind to a new set of ideas which absorbed all others. For certain motives, which we cannot here explain, he was seeking to divine whether this Tiburcio Arellanos was not the young Fabian de Mediana!
"Be calm! the enemy I speak of is no longer under your roof he has fled beyond the reach of your just vengeance." "But who is he?" impatiently demanded Don Augustin. "Tiburcio Arellanos." "What! Tiburcio Arellanos my enemy! I do not believe it. Loyalty and courage are the characteristics of the young man. I shall never believe him a traitor." "He knows the situation of the Golden Valley!
"Phantoms," said he, "are like alcaldes, who never address poor devils like me; but let me only get one or two arrobas of gold, and I shall have so many masses said for the soul of Arellanos, that he will be glad to have met his death in such generous hands." He laughed at this quaint conceit, and then rode on quickly.
"Agreed, Don Estevan; and in to-morrow's hunt of these wild horses, it will be strange if Tiburcio Arellanos don't knock his brains out against either a rock or the trunk of a tree, or at least get himself into some corner, where he won't be able to find his way out again. The only regret I have is, that I shall have to share these twenty onzas with my friends, Baraja and Oroche."
If the three hunters were victorious he had little he thought to fear from Fabian, who was still in his eyes Tiburcio Arellanos. The lower class of Mexicans think little of a blow with the dagger, and he hoped that the one he had given might be pardoned, if he were to throw the blame upon Don Estevan.
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