"Child, who implores pardon, when it is I who should ask it?" said Bois-Rose; "you were more generous than I, Fabian. Never did a lioness s.n.a.t.c.h her cub from the hands of the hunters, and carry it to her den, with a more savage love than I dragged you from the habitations of men to hide you in the desert. I was happy, because all my affections were centred in you; and I believed that you might also be so. You did not murmur; you sacrificed, unhesitatingly, all the treasures of your youth--a thousand times more precious than those of the Golden Valley.
I did not intend it should be so, and it is I who have been selfish, and not generous, for if you had died of grief, I should have died also."
"What do you mean?" cried Fabian.
"What I say, child. Who watched over your slumbers during long nights, to hear from your lips the secret wishes of your heart? It was I, who determined to accompany to this spot, Gayferos, whom at your intercession I saved from the hands of the Apaches. Who sent him to seek this beautiful and gracious lady, and learn if in her heart, she still treasured your memory? It was I still, my child, for your happiness is a thousand times more precious than mine. Who persuaded you to make this last trial? It was still I, my child, who knew that you must succ.u.mb to it. To-morrow I had said to you, I will accept your sacrifice; but Gayferos had even then read the most secret pages of this lady"s heart. Why do you ask my pardon, when I tell you it is I, who should ask yours?"
The Canadian, as he finished these words, opened his arms to Fabian, who eagerly rushed into his embrace.
"Oh, my father," cried he, "so much happiness frightens me, for never was man happier than I."
"Grief will come when G.o.d wills it," said the Canadian, solemnly.
"But you, what will become of you?" asked Fabian, anxiously. "Your loss will be to me the only bitterness in my full cup of joy."
"As G.o.d wills, my child," answered the Canadian. "It is true, I cannot live in cities, but this dwelling, which will be yours, is on the borders of the desert. Does not infinity surround me here? I shall build with Pepe--Ho, Pepe," said the hunter in a loud voice, "come and ratify my promise."
Pepe and Gayferos came forward at the hunter"s summons.
"I and Pepe," he continued, "will build a hut of the trunks and bark of trees upon the spot of ground where I found you again. We shall not always be at home, it is true, but perhaps some time hence should you wish to claim the name and fortune of your ancestors in Spain, you will find two friends ready to follow you to the end of the world. Come, my Fabian, I have no doubt that I shall be even happier than you, for I shall experience a double bliss in my happiness and yours."
But why dwell longer upon such scenes? happiness is so transitory and impalpable that it will not bear either a.n.a.lysis or description.
"There remains but one obstacle now," resumed the hunter. "This sweet lady"s father."
"To-morrow he will expect his son," interrupted Rosarita, who stood by, listening with singular interest to the dialogue.
"Then let me bless mine," said the Canadian.
Fabian knelt before the hunter.
The latter removed his fur cap, and with moist eyes raised to the starry heavens, he said--
"Oh! my G.o.d! bless my son, and grant that his children may love him as he has been loved by old Bois-Rose."
The following day the ill.u.s.trious Senator returned in sadness to Arispe.
"I was sure," he said, "that I should unceasingly mourn for poor Don Estevan. I might at least have possessed, besides my wife"s marriage portion, a t.i.tle of honour and half a million of money. It is certainly a great misfortune that poor Don Estevan is dead."
Sometime afterwards a hut made of the bark and trunks of trees was built in the forest glade so well-known to the reader. Often Fabian de Mediana, accompanied by Rosarita, to whom he was now united by the holy ties of marriage, performed a pilgrimage to the dwellers in the hut.
Perhaps at a later period one of those pilgrimages might be undertaken with the view of claiming the a.s.sistance of the two brave hunters in an expedition to the Golden Valley or to the coast of Spain; but that is a thing of the future. Let us for the present be content with saying, that if the happiness of this world is not a vain delusion, in truth it exists at the Hacienda del Venado, enjoyed by Fabian, Rosarita, and the brave _Wood-Rangers_--Pepe and Bois-Rose.
THE END.