Black Tom was meanwhile walking back and fore betwixt his master and Samaro, with his tail very erect indeed, singing loudly, and evidently doing his best to cement a friendship thus strangely begun.
“Samaro, do you remember all my dear uncle’s adventures?”
“Yes, and all he said. Is the dear señor alive?”
“I trust so. Well, we will oftentimes talk of him. I think, Samaro, you are a good man.”
Samaro laughed aloud, but not disrespectfully.
“I am clever,” he said; “but not good. He! he! O, no; goodness does not pay. I am a thorough blackguard.”
“Samaro, you astonish me! And I don’t believe you.”
“But I have been told so. I have fought plenty, I have scalped my enemies, I have revelled in bloodshed.”
“But you never have betrayed a friend?”
“No, no, no; sooner would Samaro die.”