that of Tiburcio, did not appear to shun the
pressure given to it.

At the sight of this, the hand of Don Estevan gradually relaxed its hold
upon the arm of Cuchillo.

"Yes," continued Tiburcio, "my mother died in poverty, though she has
left me a valuable inheritance, and at the same time a legacy of
vengeance. True, it is a dangerous secret of which I am the heir, for
it has already been death to those who possessed it; nevertheless it
will furnish the means to raise myself to an opulence like your own.
The vengeance which I have sworn to accomplish must be delayed, but it
shall not be forgotten. I shall yet seek the murderer of Arellanos."

At these words Cuchillo turned pale, impatiently grinding his teeth.
His arm was no longer restrained, Don Estevan grasped it no more, for he
saw that the hand of Rosarita was still pressed by that of Tiburcio.

"Here me further!" continued the young man. "About sixty leagues from
here, in the heart of the Indian country, there is a placer of gold of
incalculable richness; it was discovered by my adopted father. My
mother on her death-bed gave me full directions to find the place; and
all this gold may be mine, Rosarita, if you will only love me. Without
your love I care nothing for it. What should I do with such riches?"

Tiburcio awaited the answer of Rosarita. That answer fell upon his
heart like the tolling of a funeral knell.

"I hope, Tiburcio," said she, with a significant smile, "that this is
only a _ruse_ on your part to put me to the proof--I hope so, because I
do not wish to believe that you have acted so vile a part as to make
yourself master of a secret that belongs to another."

"The secret of another!" cried the young man in a voice hoarse with
astonishment.

"Yes, a secret which belongs only to Don Estevan. I know it--"

Tiburcio at once fell from the summit of his dreams. So his secret,
too, was lost to him as well as her whom he loved, this secret upon
which he had built his sweetest hopes; and to add to the bitterness of
his disappointment, she too--for whose sake alone he had valued it--she
to accuse him of treason!

"Ah!" cried he, "Don Estevan knows of the Golden Valley? perhaps then he
can tell me who murdered my father! Oh! my God!" cried he, striking the
ground with his heel, "perhaps it was himself!"

"Pray God rather to protect you,--you will need all his grace!" cried a
rough voice, which caused Rosarita to utter a cry of terror as