"He! no, good Fray Jose, not he, but another. Don Estevan does not wish
this alliance."
"Caspita!" exclaimed the monk. "Does he think it beneath him?"
"It may be he has the right to think so," added Don Augustin, again
smiling mysteriously.
"But who is this man?" inquired the monk, with an air of surprise.
Just as Don Augustin was about to reply, a servant entered the _sala_.
"Senor Don Augustin," said the servant, "there are two travellers at the
gate, who beg of you to give them a night's lodging. One of them says
that he is known to you."
"Bid them welcome!" replied the haciendado, "and let them enter.
Whether they are known to me or not, two guests more or less will be
nothing here."
A few seconds after, the two travellers had advanced to the foot of the
stone stairway, where they stood awaiting the presence of the master of
the house.
One of them was a man of about thirty years of age--whose open
countenance and high forehead denoted courage, combined with
intelligence. His figure presented an appearance of strength and
vigorous activity, and he was somewhat elegantly dressed--though without
any signs of foppery.
"Ah! is it you, Pedro Diaz?" cried Don Augustin, recognising him. "Are
there any Indians to be exterminated, since I find you coming into these
solitudes of ours?"
Pedro Diaz was, in truth, known as the most celebrated hater and hunter
of Indians in the whole province--hence the strange salutation with
which Don Augustin received him.
"Before answering you, Senor Don Augustin, permit me to introduce to you
the king of _gambusinos_ and prince of musicians, the Senor Don Diego
Oroche, who scents a placer of gold as a hound would a deer, and who
plays upon the mandolin as only he can play."
The individual presented under the name of Oroche, solemnly saluted the
haciendado.
It must have been a long time since the prince of gambusinos had found
an opportunity to exercise the subtle talent of which his companion
spoke--or else the cards had been of late unlucky--for his outward man
presented an appearance that was scarcely more than comfortable.
In reaching his hand to his hat, it was not necessary for him to
disarrange the folds of his cloak. It only required that he should
choose one of the numerous rents that appeared in this garment, to pass
through it his long-clawed fingers--whose length and thinness denoted
him a player on the mandolin. In reality, he carried one of these
instruments slung over his shoulders.
Don Augustin invited both Diaz and his singular companion to enter.
When they were seated in the saloon Diaz began the conversation.
"We have heard," said he, "of an expedition being got up at Arispe to
proceed to _Apacheria_; and this gentleman and I are on our way to take
part in it. Your hacienda, Senor Don Augustin, chanced to lie in our
way, and we have entered to ask your permission to lodge here for the
night. By daybreak we shall continue our route for Arispe."
"You will not have to go so far," replied Don Augustin, with a smile.
"The expedition is already on foot, and I expect the leader of it here
this very night. He will be glad of your services, I guarantee you, and
it will save you several days' journey."
"A miracle in our favour!" exclaimed Diaz; "and I thank God for the
lucky coincidence."
"The thirst of gold has caught you also, Pedro Diaz?" asked Don
Augustin, smiling significantly.
"No, thank God!" replied Diaz, "nothing of the sort. Heave the
searching for gold to experienced gambusinos, such as the Senor Oroche
here. No--you know well that I have no other passion than hatred for
the ferocious savages who have done so much ill towards me and mine. It
is only because I hope through this expedition once more to carry steel
and fire into their midst, that I take any part in it."
"It is right," said the haciendado, who like all dwellers upon the
frontiers exposed to Indian incursions, nourished in his heart a hatred
for the savages almost equal to that of Diaz himself. "I approve of
your sentiments, Don Pedro Diaz; and if you will permit me to offer you
a gage of mine, I beg you will accept from me the present of a horse I
have--one that will carry you to your satisfaction. I promise you that
the Indian you pursue, while on his back, will require to go as fast as
the wind itself, if you do not overtake him."
"He shall be my war-horse," exclaimed Diaz, his eyes sparkling with
pleasure at the gift. "I shall ornament his crest with Indian scalps,
in honour of him who gave him to me."
"I cannot divine what has delayed Don Estevan," said the haciendado,
changing the subject of conversation. "He should have been here three
hours before this, that is, if he passed the night at La Poza."
Don Augustin had scarce finished his speech when a sudden and graceful
apparition glided into the saloon. It was his daughter, the beautiful
Rosarita.
As if the expected cavalcade only awaited her presence, the clattering
of hoofs at the same instant was heard outside; and by the light of the
torches which the domestics had carried out, Don Estevan and his suite
could be seen riding up to the entrance of the hacienda.