‘’Yes, sir, he knew them,’ she replied; then, after a slight pause, she added:  ’We have already told you so much that it would be folly to conceal the way in which we became acquainted with the existence of this mine.  Soon after my marriage, I met a veteran officer of the Mexican army, General Ramiro, then living in exile, at New-Orleans.  For me he conceived a paternal affection, and many a time remonstrated with Mr. Percival, and entreated him to devote himself to his family, and abandon the course of life which was leading him to ruin.  He often spoke of his desire to return to Mexico, and lived constantly in the hope of the decree being revoked, which had driven him into exile.  One day he disclosed the chief cause of his desire to return, by revealing the secret we have imparted to you.’

‘’Pardon me, madame,’ I said, ’but tell me how General Ramiro gained his information?  Exploring for opal mines is hardly part of the duties of a General, even in Mexico.’

‘’I was about to explain that,’ replied the lady.  ’An Indian, convicted of murdering a monk, some three years previously, was condemned to death.  On being taken, according to Mexican usage, on the eve of execution, to the confessional, he refused the slightest attention to the exhortations of the priests, affirming that he had written a letter to the Governor, which would secure his pardon.

’’True enough, a party of dragoons arrived during the night, and took him away.  The letter was addressed to General Ramiro, then acting as Governor, and contained promises of a revelation of the highest importance.

’’When conducted to the General, the Indian proved, by a host of details, the existence of an opal mine, which he had accidentally discovered, and in return for the revelation, demanded a free pardon.’

‘’I understand, perfectly, madame,’ I added, seeing Adele hesitate.

‘’I feel,’ she said, ’a certain reluctance at this portion of my narrative, for it forces me to lay bare an act which General Ramiro ever after regretted, and which—­’ ’’Madame, I will spare you the recital; the fact is, the General gained the Indian’s secret, and then—­unfortunately for the Indian—­forgot to fulfill his promise.’

’’Alas! sir, you have rightly judged.  Two hours after the interview, the Indian suffered the garrote, and General Ramiro became the sole possessor of this important secret.  I will not attempt to justify my venerable friend.  He sincerely lamented his sin, and retribution followed him with long, sad years of exile and poverty.  We often sat together for hours, he talking of his wonderful mine, and longing for his recall to his native land.  His enemies, however, held a firm hold of government, and growing weary of delay, he made overtures to this firm of Brown and Hunt, through their correspondents in New-Orleans.  Being sadly in want of funds, he was even mad enough to give a hint of some kind, relative to an opal mine, which was to be worked by them on joint account.