was thus pronounced, for the sentiment of inexorable justice that
God has implanted in the heart of man told him that Don Estevan merited
his fate, if Fabian spoke truly. He sighed, but offered no reply.

While these events were taking place in the midst of the plain, the
actors of the scene might have observed Cuchillo raise with precaution
the leaves which covered his head, cast an eager glance on the Golden
Valley, and then glide out of the lake. Covered with mud, and his
garments streaming with water, they might have mistaken him for one of
the evil spirits whom the Indians believed to dwell in these solitudes.
But their attention was completely absorbed by what was taking place
among themselves.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

THE TWO MEDIANAS FACE TO FACE.

Pedro Diaz speedily roused himself from the deep depression and
astonishment which had for a moment overpowered him.

"According to the rules of war, I am your prisoner," said he, raising
his head, "and I am anxious to know your decision concerning me."

"You are free, Diaz," replied Fabian, "free without conditions."

"Not so! not so!" said the Canadian, quickly interrupting him. "We
must, on the contrary, impose a rigorous condition upon your liberty."

"What is it?" asked the adventurer.

"You have now, in common with us," replied Bois-Rose, "become possessed
of a secret which we have long since known. I have my reasons for
wishing that the knowledge of this secret should expire with those whose
evil destiny makes them acquainted with it. You only," added the
Canadian, "will be an exception to the rule, because a brave man like
yourself should be a slave to his word. I demand, then, before
restoring you your liberty, a promise upon your honour, never to reveal
to human being, the existence of the Golden Valley."

"I never indulged any hope in acquiring this treasure," replied the
noble adventurer, in a melancholy tone, "beyond that of the freedom and
aggrandisement of my country. The sad fate which threatens the man, to
whom I looked for the realisation of my hopes, proves to me that in both
cases I have entertained a delusive dream. Even should all the riches
of the Golden Valley remain forever buried in these deserts, what would
it avail me now? I swear then, and you may rely upon my honour, that I
shall never reveal its existence to a living soul. I shall try to
forget that I have ever, for an instant, beheld it."

"It is well," said Bois