"DO YOUR DARNDEST."
During all this time--only a few seconds it was--the four men within the
cell preserved silence; the dwarf, as the door alone was drawn open,
having said to the gaol-governor: "_Buenas Dias Excellenza_! you're
coming to set us free, aren't you?"
A mere bit of jocular bravado; for, as might be supposed, the deformed
wretch could have little hope of deliverance, save by the gallows, to
which he had actually been condemned. A creature of indomitable pluck,
however, this had not so far frightened him as to hinder jesting--a
habit to which he was greatly given. Besides, he did not believe he was
going to the _garota_. Murderer though he was, he might expect pardon,
could he only find money sufficient to pay the price, and satisfy the
conscience of those who had him in keeping.
His question was neither answered nor himself taken notice of; the
attention of those outside being now directed upon the other occupants
of the cell. Of these only two had their faces so that they could be
seen. The third, who was the reputed robber, kept his turned towards
the wall, the opened door being behind his back; and this attitude he
preserved, not being called upon to change it till Santander had closed
his conversation with Cris Rock and Kearney. He had opened it in a
jaunty, jeering tone, saying--
"Well, my brave Filibusters! Is this where you are? _Caspita_! In a
queer place and queer company, too! Not so nice, Senor Don Florencio,
as that you used to keep in the Crescent City. And you, my Texan
Colossus! I take it you don't find the atmosphere of the Acordada quite
so pleasant as the fresh breezes of prairie-land, eh?"