The governor and his guest proceeded to the breakfast room, where they found a third person waiting for them. This was a Major Barnum, an old Englishman, tall, dry, thin, and formal; as brave a soldier as ever existed; for twenty years in the service of the Mexican Republic; devoted heart and soul to the country of his adoption; and second in command in the presidio of San Lucar.
He and Don José had seen much service together, and were attached to each other like two brothers; resuscitating in this out of the way corner of the world the fables of Castor and Pollux Damon and Pythias, and all the other heroes of ancient friendship.
Don Fernando and Major Barnum were slightly acquainted with each other, and glad of the meeting; for the Englishman was an excellent fellow, and hid a warm and loyal heart under his rather cold manner.
After the usual greetings, all three placed themselves at table, and commenced a vigorous attack on the delicacies with which the board was abundantly supplied.
When the first keen relish of appetite had been appeased, the conversation became more lively, and at the close of the meal grew quite amicable and confidential.
"By the bye, what is the matter with you, Don José?" said Don Fernando. "There is something odd about you today, which I have never seen before."
"Right," said the governor, draining a glass of Jerez de la Frontera (sherry); "I feel sad."
"You sad! You astonish me. If I had not noticed your appetite at breakfast, I should think you were ill."
"Well," said the soldier, with a sigh, "my appetite is good."
"Then what is there to vex you?"