n a loud tone, as the dark shadow was seen
entering the glade.

"One who seeks an asylum by your fire," was the ready reply, delivered
in rather a feeble voice.

"Shall we allow him to come on? or beg him to continue his journey?"
muttered Pepe to the Canadian.

"God forbid we should deny him! Perhaps they have refused him a lodging
up at the house; and that voice, which I think I have heard before,
plainly denotes that he is fatigued--perhaps ill."

"Come on, Senor!" called out Pepe, without hesitating farther; "you are
welcome to our fire and our mess; come on!"

At this invitation the stranger advanced. It is needless to say that it
was Tiburcio Arellanos, whose cheeks as he came within the light of the
fire betrayed by their paleness the traces of some violent emotion, or
else of some terrible malady. This pallor, however, was partly caused
by the blood which he had lost in the conflict with Cuchillo.

As soon as the features of Tiburcio came fairly under the light, the
trappers recognised him as the young man they had met at La Poza; but
the ex-carabinier was struck with some idea which caused him to make an
involuntary gesture. The Canadian, on the other hand, regarded the
new-comer with that expression of condescending kindness which age often
bestows upon youth.

"Have you parted with the gentlemen in whose company we saw you?" asked
Pepe of Tiburcio.

"Yes."

"Perhaps you are not aware that there is a house close by. I do not
know the owner, but I fancy he would not refuse you a night's lodging,
and he could entertain you better than we. Perhaps," continued he,
observing that Tiburcio made no reply, "you have been up to the house
already?"

"I have," answered Tiburcio. "I have no reproach to make against its
owner, Don Augustin Pena; he has not refused me hospitality; but there
are other guests under his roof with whom my life is not safe."

"Oh, that!" exclaimed Pepe, appearing to become more interested; "has
anything happened to you?"

Tiburcio lifted his serape, exhibiting the wound in his right arm from
which the blood was yet oozing.

Both Pepe and the Canadian rose hastily to their feet and stepped
forward to examine the wound. Having done so, they immediately set
about dressing it, which they effected with as much dexterity and
despatch as might have been shown by practised surgeons; at the same
time the rude physiognomy of each was marked by an expression of
interest almost amo