Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 20, 2025
"The surface of the lake only does not preserve the trace of the bird which flies over its waters, nor the form of the cloud which it reflects; but the earth, with its herbs and mosses, reveals to us sons of the desert, the print of the jaguar's foot as well as the horse's hoof and the Indian's track; do you not know it, even as I do?" "I did not kill Arellanos," repeated the assassin.
He was the more confirmed in this idea, because such visions had occurred to him before especially upon the night when he sat by the death-bed of his adopted mother the widow of Arellanos. The revelations which she made to him before dying had revived in some mysterious way these shadowy souvenirs.
On my return to Arispe I repaired to the dwelling of the widow of Arellanos to inform her of the death of poor Marcos. But with the exception of the great grief which the news caused her, I observed nothing particular nothing that could give me the least suspicion that I am not the sole possessor of the secret of the Golden Valley."
Tiburcio Arellanos would have met with a refusal from Don Augustin softened, it is true, by affectionate words but had not Fabian de Mediana a better chance of success? "Will you tell me how Tiburcio Arellanos can be Fabian de Mediana?" asked Don Augustin, with more curiosity than anger. "Who gave you this information?"
"But you have not yet told me your name?" said he, interrogatively, after a moment's hesitation. "Tiburcio Arellanos," was the reply. At the mention of the name the Canadian could not restrain a gesture that expressed disappointment. There was nothing in the name to recall the slightest souvenir. He had never heard it before. The young man, however, observed the gesture.
"Arellanos also craved for mercy; did you listen to him?" said Fabian, turning away. "But when I killed him, it was that I might possess all this gold myself. Now I restore it all for my life what can you want more?" he continued, while he resisted Pepe's efforts, who was trying to prevent him from kissing Fabian's feet.
Who do you think he was?" "How should I know?" replied the haciendado. "Tiburcio, the adopted son of the famous gambusino, Marcos Arellanos." "How! his mother dead! I am sorry. He is a brave youth, and I have not forgotten the service he once did me. But for him we should all have been dead of thirst, my daughter, my people, and myself.
The Canadian hunter, by a glance, interrogated him, for whom his blind devotion knew no bounds. "Marcos Arellanos craved pardon and did not obtain it," said Fabian, no longer undecided, "and as this man did to others, so let it be done to him." And these three inexorable men seated themselves solemnly upon the summit of the pyramid, where Cuchillo already awaited them.
Let me tell you, then, that this man is no other than Tiburcio Arellanos." "Tiburcio!" exclaimed the two acolytes. "Himself and although, since he is one of my dearest friends, it goes sadly against my heart, I declare to you that his life may render abortive all the plans of our expedition."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking