I feared I had not been explicit enough.
"At what time do you ordinarily sup here? For my part, I can sup at any hour of the evening when I am as hungry as I am at present."
"Any hour is convenient enough for me; but to-day I have had no supper."
This reply astonished me. Luckily, Cecilio had supplied himself with some yards of dried meat.[27] I was able then, our respective positions being reversed, to offer a frugal repast to the singular amphitryon with whom chance had brought me acquainted, and he needed no pressing to make him accept it.
"It appears to me," I said, after we had finished, "that there is a certain person called Remigio Vasquez in the world who is far from being a friend of yours; what ill has he done you?"
"None, till a little ago; and I fired at him (that is, at you) to-day purely from precaution, and to prevent him from ruining me."
Florencio Planillas, that was my host's name, then entered into long details about his own affairs. He was one of those obstinate miners who have all their lives struggled to grasp after merely visionary illusions, and who, like the unlucky gambler, fancy themselves constantly on the point of becoming possessors of millions without ever being able to learn those rude lessons of experience which their unhappy obstinacy prevents them from acquiring. His history was that of many others. Once proprietor of a rich silver mine, then of a flourishing hacienda de beneficio, he had seen the thread of silver fail in the borrasca,[28] and the want of capital had forced him to suspend his metallurgic operations. According to Mexican custom, a mine once abandoned becomes the property of the person who proclaims the failure of the former proprietor. This proclamation was a perpetual source of annoyance to Florencio Planillas both day and night. His restless, perturbed spirit saw a rival in every one, ready to deprive him of his property, and he had been told that an individual named Remigio Vasquez had arrived the night before at Guanajuato, with the avowed intention of profiting by the suspension of his works, and claiming them as his own. It would prove a rough blow to Florencio to be deprived of a property which had enriched him before, and very probably might do so again. The Mexicans are very generally in the habit of deciding such cases by the knife. He had therefore vowed the death of Remigio Vasquez. "I never saw him," he added, on finishing his recital; "but his appearance has been so exactly described to me that he can not escape. I spent this whole day at Guanajuato trying to discover him, but in vain, and on my return, deceived by the darkness, by a certain vague resemblance you bore to him, and, above all, by the cloak you wore, I thought you were the person that had come to dispossess me of my rights, and it was only on closer inspection that I discovered my error. I do not say, however, that I am sorry I missed you; but after this I'll use the knife. El cuchillo no suena ni truena (the knife does its work silently), as my friend Tomas Verduzco says."
"Verdugo, you mean," said I, interrupting him.
"Do you know him?" cried Florencio, with a laugh. "What a capital joke! But you don't transact business with him, I think."