"Thank God! Perhaps this victory will procure us the tranquillity of which commerce stands so much in need."
"Yes," said a rich hacendero, a neighbour of Don Pedro. "Communication has been so difficult of late, that we can forward nothing."
"Are the redskins at work?" asked a merchant, whom these words had troubled.
"No," said the governor; "there is no danger from them. The last lesson they got was a rude one, and they will not forget it. For a long time they have not dared to invade our frontiers."
An almost imperceptible smile curled the lips of Don Fernando. "You forget the Tigercat and his adherents," said he.
"Oh! the Tigercat is only a bandit," said the governor hastily. "Besides, Government is at this moment preparing an expedition against him, so as to finish, once and for all, with his band of brigands."
"It is an admirable idea," said Don Torribio, with a sarcastic sneer. "It is time this frontier should be cleared of the host of fellows, with more than equivocal habits, who infest it."
"I am quite of the same opinion; it seems a most sensible measure," said Don Fernando quietly, but giving back to his adversary a smile as bitter as his own.
"In case of invasion, do you think the Indians able to give the province much trouble?" asked the merchant.
"H'm!" said Don José, with a patronising air; "People entertain exaggerated ideas of these redskins; in fact, they are but miserable wretches."
Don Fernando smiled again; but this time the smile was savage and sinister.
"Señor gobernador," said he, "you are not quite right. To judge by the news you were good enough to communicate, I believe the Indians will keep quite peaceably at home, unless they are determined to tempt ill luck."
"¡Rayo de Dios! I should think so," replied the governor.
"Ah! Señorita," said Don Torribio, gracefully turning to Doña Hermosa, "may I pray of your kindness to let us hear that delicious song from the Domino Noir, which you sang to such perfection a few days ago?"
Doña Hermosa, darted a look from under her long lashes at Don Fernando. The latter's eyes conveyed a mute prayer of entreaty. Without further hesitation, she placed herself at the piano, and, in a pure and feeling voice, sang the romance in the third act.
"I remember having heard that delicious romance sung in Paris by Madame Demareau, that nightingale who flew away too soon," said Don Torribio, bowing gallantly to Doña Hermosa. "I know not whether you or she sang it with most taste and spirit."
She answered: "Cousin, you have lived too long in France."
"How so, señorita?"
"Because," she replied, with a smile as cold and keen as the point of a poniard, "France has made you a detestable flatterer."
"¡Bravo!" chuckled the fat governor, whose cheeks shook with delight. "You see Don Torribio, our creoles rival the Parisian ladies in the smartness of their repartee."
"Incontestably, colonel," answered Don Torribio. "But I can take my own part," he added in an undefinable tone; "I shall soon have my revenge." And he cast a glance at Don Fernando and Doña Hermosa, who were seated close to each other, which made the girl shudder with fear.
"Don Fernando, and you other caballeros, here present," said the governor, addressing the guests, "I hope that tomorrow you will attend the Te Deum to be sung in honour of our glorious Santa Anna."
"I shall have the honour," said Don Fernando. The others made a similar response.
"As for me," said Don Torribio, "you must excuse me, colonel; for business compels me to leave tonight."
"What!" cried Don Pedro, in astonishment; "You are going to travel tonight, cousin?"
"I am indeed, Señor Don Pedro; I am obliged to leave you, even though I have but just arrived."
"Well, that is a singular and most unforeseen resolution. Where are you going?"
"Excuse me if I keep the object of my expedition secret. Certain persons must not have the sole right of making mysterious excursions."
"Indeed!" said Don Pedro peevishly. "And do you intend to stay away long?"
"I hope not, but dare not say I am sure."
"So much the better. Come back to us as soon as you can; for," said he significantly, "your return will please all of us here."
"¿Quién sabe?" (who knows?) muttered Don Torribio, with a sinister expression.
Doña Hermosa, who overheard these two words, could no longer master her fears.
While Don Pedro and his cousin were exchanging these words, the girl Whispered to Don Estevan:
"Brother, tomorrow, after mass, I want to speak to you at my nurse's."
"To me, or to my friend?" said Don Estevan softly.
"To both," she answered, with feverish agitation.
Don Estevan and Don Fernando now retired with joyful hearts. The latter was sure that Doña Hermosa had recognised him.
The other visitors also gradually departed, till Don Torribio de Quiroga was left alone with his host.
"Cousin," said he, in a low and broken voice, as he bent down to the lady to bid her farewell, "I am about to begin a journey in which I shall incur considerable danger. May I hope you will remember the traveller in your prayers?"
Hermosa looked him in the face for an instant, and replied with an austerity unusual in her:
"Cousin, I cannot pray for the success of a journey the purport of which I do not know."
"Thanks for your frankness, señorita," he replied, without exhibiting emotion; "I shall not forget your words."
"So you are really going, Don Torribio?" said Don Pedro, who joined them at the moment.
"This very instant, cousin: all is ready for my departure."
"Then I wish you luck! I hope we shall soon hear from you?"
"Yes," he replied, with a singular expression; "you shall soon hear of me. Farewell!"
"What is the matter with your cousin, niña?" asked Don Pedro, when he found himself alone with his daughter: "His conduct tonight has been very strange."
Before she could answer, the door opened. "The capataz of the Hacienda de las Norias," said a peon who had entered, "wishes to speak to Señor Don Pedro de Luna on affairs of consequence."
"Admit him instantly," replied Don Pedro to the domestic who had announced the arrival of the capataz so pompously.
Don Torribio was terribly agitated when he left the house. He looked back, and cast a venomous eye on the windows of the room, on which he could see the graceful shadow of Doña Hermosa.
"Proud girl," said he in a terrible voice, "I hate you with all the power of the love I once felt for you! Soon, very soon, I will punish you for your disdain."
Then, wrapping his cloak around him, he rapidly took the direction of the nearest patio (out-buildings), where he hoped to find his horse. Indeed, he found him there; a peon holding the bridle. Don Torribio seized the reins, threw the peon a piastre, flung himself into the saddle, and rode off at a gallop.
"Wagh!" said the Indian, picking up the money; "What ails the young master? One would think him mad. How he scampered off!"
In the meantime Don Torribio had left the hacienda behind him, and was making all haste on the road to San Lucar.
But he had not ridden more than a quarter of an hour, when suddenly, at a turn of the road, his horse gave a start of terror, reared, and flew round, with his ears laid close to his head. Don Torribio looked to see what had alarmed the animal.
A man of tall stature, mounted on a strong black horse, held the middle of the