Stoneheart: A Romance. Gustave Aimard
horse; we can go as soon as you like."
Don Torribio held up his hand.
"Stay here," said he; "we shall find no more suitable place than this to discuss what we have got to say to each other."
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