o, was ignorant of the motives
which had led to his mysterious conduct.

Whatever these motives were, she knew they could not be otherwise than
just. What to her were the calumnies--the gibes--that were heaped upon
him? What to her if he had taken the life of a fellow-creature? He had
not done so without good cause--without some fearful provocation. She
believed that in her soul. She knew his noble nature too well to think
otherwise. He was the lord of her heart, and could do no wrong!

Sorrowful, heart-breaking news was it to her. It boded long
separation--perhaps for ever! He dared no more visit the town--not even
the settlement! He would be driven to the wild plains--hunted like the
wolf or the savage bison--perhaps taken and slain! Bitter were her
reflections. When should she see him again? Maybe, never!

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

During all this time Vizcarra lay groaning upon his couch--not so much
with pain as fear, for the fear of death still haunted him. But for
that, his rage would have been boundless; but this passion was in
abeyance--eclipsed by the terrors that flitted across his conscience.

Even had he been assured of recovery he would still have been in dread.
His imagination was diseased by his dream and the after reality. Even
surrounded by his soldiers, he feared the cibolero, who appeared able to
accomplish any deed and escape its consequences. He did not even feel
secure there in his chamber, with guards at the entrance, against that
avenging arm!

Now, more than ever, he was desirous of getting rid of the cause--more
than ever anxious that she should be got rid of; but he reflected that
now more than ever was that a delicate and difficult matter. It would
undoubtedly get abroad _why_ the cibolero had made such a desperate
attempt upon his life--it would spread until it reached high quarters--
such a report could not be passed over--an investigation might be
ordered; and that, unless he could destroy every trace of suspicion,
might be his ruin.

These were his reflections while in the belief that he was going to
recover; when a doubt of this crossed his mind, he grew still more
anxious about the result.

Roblado had hinted at a way in which all might be arranged. He waited
with impatience for the latter to make his appearance. The warlike
captain was still engaged in beating the chapparal; but Gomez had come
in and reported that he was about to give up the search, and retur