"He has probably encountered someone on the road," replied Don Estevan, laughing.
"You are wrong to joke with us in our circumstances; it is almost an insult to my sorrow."
"Heaven preserve me from such an intention, Don Pedro! The sound is coming nearer. We shall soon see what we have to do. I should not be at all surprised if Don Fernando has laid hands upon some Indian marauder, at the very moment when, concealed by the underwood, he was watching our camp, and spying out our movements."
"¡Canarios! It is he himself!" cried the capataz.
In fact, the clear and sonorous voice of Don Fernando replied to the challenge of the sentry, and two horsemen pushed through the thick underwood which surrounded the clearing and formed a kind of natural rampart.
Don Fernando brought with him a man whom he had firmly bound to a horse to prevent his escape. As to the prisoner, he seemed to bear his capture lightly. He swayed himself comfortably in his saddle, comported himself with an air of assurance, and looked altogether as impudent as possible. On reaching the fire, where our personages were assembled, he saluted them with a grimace, unabashed by the looks of the standers-by.
He was no other than our friend Tonillo el Zapote, whom we have presented to our readers on several occasions.
Don Fernando was very warmly and heartily greeted. His friends burnt with impatience to question him; and their curiosity was the more excited, as the frank and almost joyful expression of his features led them to suppose he was the bearer of good news. Don Fernando dismounted, embraced his friends, and unbuckled the girth which strapped the prisoner's legs under the belly of his horse, thus giving him the use of his limbs.
"Good," said the vaquero, "many thanks, Don Fernando. I have had quite enough of it. My legs are tingling as if a million of pins were stuck in them." He sprang to the ground; but he had spoken truly; his benumbed limbs could not support the weight of his body, and he fell heavily. The capataz hastened to raise him. "It is a mere nothing," said the vaquero, honouring him with a gracious smile; "yet I thank you, caballero. In five minutes the circulation will be restored, and no harm done. But if it is the same to you, Don Fernando, pray do not pull the buckle so tight another time."
"It will depend upon yourself, Zapote. Swear you will make no attempt at escape, and I will set you free."