mountains, I suppose," Bertram replied. "I suppose you did not think I
was aware of it. I was, however, and I knew also that you were behind
him. If it hadn't been for that fact, I should have taxed him with his
treachery on my return to the camp. But we are wasting time. Is it quite
impossible for me to make you change your mind?"

"Quite," said Max. "Though I am none the less grateful to you for your
kindness in offering to go, I cannot accept it."

"Are you quite sure that no argument on my part will make you alter your
decision?"

"I am quite sure," Max replied. "My mind is irrevocably made up."

"So be it," returned Bertram quietly. "In that case, I suppose, we may
as well return to the camp. Should Moreas have seen us leave it, he may
have got the idea into his head that you are scheming against him. That
would be a bad beginning as far as you are concerned."

They accordingly retraced their steps, and, so far as they knew, reached
the camp without anyone being the wiser that they had absented
themselves from it.

Next morning, as soon as it was light, the camp was roused by Moreas.
The best mules had been set apart for the onward journey, and, as soon
as the morning meal had been eaten, and the beasts were saddled, the two
adventurers prepared to set off. When all the final arrangements had
been made, and the place of meeting, should the pair return, settled, it
was time for them to bid the rest of the party farewell. It was a solemn
moment in their lives, and every one seemed aware of the fact. Moreas
shook hands with the two Spaniards first, and then approached Bertram.

"Farewell, Senor," he said, with a bow. "I trust I shall have good news
for you when next I see you."

Max observed that they did not shake hands. The hatred that existed
between them was so mutual and so strong, that even the fact that, in
all human probability, they would never see each other again, was not
sufficient to make them part friends. Then came Max's turn. He shook
hands with Antonio and Diego, and, having done so, approached the man
for whom he entertained such a genuine liking.

"Good-bye," he said. Then looking him straight in the face, he added,
"If by any chance I should not return, you know whom to make acquainted
with my fate. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," answered the other, his voice shaking as he said it. Then,
seeing that Moreas was out of earshot, he added, "For heaven's sake,
your Highness, run no undue risks. If