CHAPTER III.
DON TORRIBIO QUIROGA

There was a long silence after these words of Don Torribio. The vaqueros, with their eyes fixed on him, endeavoured to guess his thoughts from the play of his features. But Don Torribio's face, cold and rigid as a block of marble, gave no signs of the thoughts within. At last, after casting a glance of suspicion around, more from habit than from any fear of being overheard, he rolled a cigarette, lit it with the greatest coolness, and began to speak in a careless tone.

"My good verado, I am truly sorry that you have taken these honourable caballeros from their vocations, and put yourself to inconvenience, in order to repair to the place I had appointed."

"Why so, señor?" asked the verado, perfectly puzzled by this commencement.

"For a very simple reason, señor, – because the motives no longer exist which induced me to wish to confer with you."

"What!" cried all the rogues together; "Can that be possible?"

"Oh, yes!" he replied coolly; "All things considered, Don Fernando Carril is a charming caballero. I should be in despair if I caused him the slightest inconvenience."

"Diablo! not quite so charming!" observed the verado; "The fellow who ordered Carlocho to kill me quietly!"

"It was not to me, dear friend," said Carlocho, with great suavity, "but to Don Pablito here, that Señor Don Fernando gave the order."

"You are right; I made a mistake. Accept my excuses, señor."

After this exchange of courtesy, the two bandits again grew silent.

"An honest man sticks to his word," said Tonillo; "and if Don Torribio has changed his mind, we have nothing more to say. That reminds me," he added, with a smothered sigh, "that I must refund to you two hundred piastres, which you advanced to – "

"Keep the trifle, dear señor," said Don Torribio; "the money cannot be in better hands than yours."

The vaquero, who had pulled the coins from his pocket with evident reluctance, thrust them back again with a celerity that evinced the greatest satisfaction.

"It is all the same," said he; "I do not consider myself quits with you, señor. I am an honest man, and you may rely upon me."

"On us all!" exclaimed the others in one voice.

"I thank you for your devotion, señores, and appreciate it highly. Unfortunately, as I say once more, it is of no use to me."

"It is unfortunate," said the verado; "one does not find such patrons as you every day, señor."

"Pooh!" said he gaily; "Now you are free, what prevents your placing yourselves under the orders of Don Fernando? He is very generous; a caballero to the tips of his fingers: I am sure he will pay you well."

"I suppose it will have to be so, señor," said Pablito; "moreover, we can now confess that we have already been thinking of it, and – "

"Have already taken service with him," said Don Torribio carelessly. "I was aware of it."

"You know it?" cried the bandits, struck with astonishment.

"And are not vexed at it?" continued Pablito.

"Why should I be? On the contrary, I am delighted. It is a strange chance; but perhaps you will be even better able to serve me by the change."

"Indeed!" said they, becoming very attentive.

"Certainly you may. So you really are devoted to me?"

"To the last drop of our blood!" shouted the vaqueros in touching unison.

"You do not despise money?"

"Money can never hurt those who have none," replied the sententious Pablito.

"When it is earned honourably," added Tonillo with a grin like a monkey.

"I agree with you," said Don Torribio; "particularly when it is a question of a hundred ounces or so," (about three hundred and forty pounds sterling).

The bandits trembled with joy, and their wild eyes sparkled. They exchanged looks of promise to themselves for the future, which did not escape Don Torribio's observation.

"¡Caray!" they muttered, hugging themselves with joy.

"So that would suit you, I suppose?"

"Rayo de Dios! a hundred ounces! I should think so," said Pablito.

"There may be more," observed Don Torribio.

"But doubtless it will be a difficult job," the verado ventured to say.

"¡Dame! You know, things are going wrong at present."

"No need to tell us that, señor; the misery is frightful."

"Perhaps there may be a man to kill?" insinuated Carlocho.

"That might happen!" roundly replied Don Torribio.

"So much the worse for him," muttered Pablito.

"Then the offer is agreeable to you, even in that case?"

"More so than ever," growled Tonillo.

"Since that is your opinion, caballeros, listen attentively," said Don Torribio, drawing himself up; "I have pledged my honour," he began, "to make no attempts against Don Fernando Carril, either directly or indirectly."

"An honest man sticks to his word," said Tonillo.

"And I intend to keep mine scrupulously, as regards Don Fernando."

The vaqueros made signs of approbation.

"But," continued the speaker, "you know as well as I do that Don Fernando is a man made of mysteries, whose life lies hidden under an impenetrable veil."

"Alas, yes!" piteously sighed Tonillo.

"No one knows what becomes of him for the greater part of his time: he disappears for months together, to start up again at the moment when one least expects him."

"It is but too true," said Pablito; "the life of the caballero is most extraordinary."

"To how many dangers he must expose himself," continued Don Torribio, "in those perilous adventures, of which no one knows the object, nor the direction in which he seeks them!"

"It is terrible even to think of them," said Carlocho, with an air of conviction.

"One so easily meets with mishap in the wilderness," added the verado.

"Without going further, only look what might have happened to yourself tonight, señor!" said Tonillo, looking interested.

"It is dreadful," exclaimed Pablito.

"You will clearly understand, señores," resumed Don Torribio, "that I can by no means be responsible for the numberless accidents to which Don Fernando's manner of life exposes him at every step."

"This is incontestable," cried the others.

"Chance seems to take malignant pleasure in deranging and upsetting the best conceived plans; and it is impossible for me to save him from chance, even with the lively interest I take in his safety."

"There can be no doubt on that head," said Pablito, dogmatically; "and certainly not a soul would have the right to utter a word of reproach against you, señor, should poor Don Fernando be killed in one of his perilous adventures."

"Exactly what I think; but as I am now no longer the enemy, but the friend of Don Fernando, and in that capacity take the greatest interest in knowing all that may happen to him, so that I might fly to his aid if necessary – "

"Or avenge him, if ill luck should have it that he should be killed," said Carlocho, interrupting him.

"I should like," continued Don Torribio, "to be constantly apprised of whatever may happen to him."

"Oh, holy friendship!" exclaimed Tonillo, raising his eyes to heaven with a sanctified air; "Thou art not a mere idle word!"

"Caballeros, you could not be in a better position for giving me information; and as all trouble should have its reward, you shall receive at least one hundred ounces to share amongst you, or two hundred, according to the news you may bring me. You understand?"

"Perfectly, señor," replied Carlocho, with imperturbable composure, in the name of his deeply touched companions; "the office you confide to us is most honourable. You may rely on our carrying out your views to your utmost satisfaction."

"Well, that is settled, señores; I rely upon the accuracy of your information, for you must perceive the ridiculous position in which a false report would place me in the eyes of Don Fernando's numerous friends, whom I should be loth to disturb without good cause."

"Trust entirely to us, señor; we will confirm our information by irrefragable proof."

"Good! I see we understand each other; it is useless to pursue the matter further."

"Perfectly useless, señor; we are men of quick comprehension."

"Yes," said Don Torribio, smiling; "but, as your memories may be short, do me the honour of dividing these ten ounces amongst you, – not as the earnest – money of a bargain, for there is no bargain between us, but as a return for the service you have just done me, and as a means of imprinting our conversation on your brains."

The vaqueros, without waiting to be pressed, extended their hands, and, with smiling faces, pocketed the ounces so liberally bestowed.

"Now, one word more, caballeros: where are we?"

"In the Selva Negra, señor," answered Pablito; "not more than four leagues from the Hacienda del Cormillo, where Don Pedro de Luna and his family are at present residing."

Don Torribio started in astonishment.

"What! Has Don Pedro left Las Norias de San Antonio?"

"Yes, señor; since yesterday."

"What a singular thing! El Cormillo is on the extreme verge of the wilderness, in the midst of the Apaches: it is impossible to understand it."

"They say it was Doña Hermosa who wished for this change, of which scarcely anybody has yet heard."

"What an extraordinary whim! After the dangers to which she was exposed only a few days ago, to come and brave the redskins on their own territory!"

"The hacienda is strong, and perfectly safe from sudden assault."

"True: yet the change of residence seems very incomprehensible. At sunrise, I should be happy if you would do me the honour of serving me as guides till I get within sight of the hacienda. It is important that I should see Don Pedro without delay."

"We shall be at your orders, señor, as soon as you please to depart," answered Carlocho.

The night was fleeting; and Don Torribio had need of repose to restore his strength, exhausted by his late struggle for life. He rolled himself in his zarapé, stretched out his feet towards the fire, and was soon asleep, in spite of the trouble that racked his mind.

The vaqueros followed his example, after drawing lots amongst themselves as to who should watch over the common safety.

The post fell to Carlocho: the others closed their eyes; and the silence of the wilderness, which had just been so terribly disturbed, resumed its empire.

Night passed, without anything occurring to disturb the rest of these guests of the forest.

At sunrise the vaqueros were up. After feeding and watering their horses, they saddled them, and roused Don Torribio, announcing that the hour of departure had arrived.

The latter rose at once; and, after a short prayer uttered by them all, the five men mounted, and left the clearing which had nearly proved so fatal to one of them.