Sleep was now impossible, and he lay so rapt in thought, that time flew on unheeded.

The moon was shining brightly now, and every object was distinctly seen.

He heard the rustling of leaves and the crush of grass.

A moment he opened his eyes, then closed them, and feigned sleep.
The Mexican had risen, and softly approaching the motionless form, knelt on the ground beside him, and listened to his breathing.

It was low and regular, as one in quiet slumber.