"Yes," said Don Torribio, smiling; "but, as your memories may be short, do me the honour of dividing these ten ounces amongst you,—not as the earnest—money of a bargain, for there is no bargain between us, but as a return for the service you have just done me, and as a means of imprinting our conversation on your brains."
The vaqueros, without waiting to be pressed, extended their hands, and, with smiling faces, pocketed the ounces so liberally bestowed.
"Now, one word more, caballeros: where are we?"
"In the Selva Negra, señor," answered Pablito; "not more than four leagues from the Hacienda del Cormillo, where Don Pedro de Luna and his family are at present residing."
Don Torribio started in astonishment.
"What! Has Don Pedro left Las Norias de San Antonio?"
"Yes, señor; since yesterday."
"What a singular thing! El Cormillo is on the extreme verge of the wilderness, in the midst of the Apaches: it is impossible to understand it."
"They say it was Doña Hermosa who wished for this change, of which scarcely anybody has yet heard."
"What an extraordinary whim! After the dangers to which she was exposed only a few days ago, to come and brave the redskins on their own territory!"