"What do you want then?" he replied, in a tone that showed he was a little reassured by that frank declaration, though he still kept on the defensive.
"Hospitality for this night, in the first place," said the other.
Don Antonio endeavoured to ascertain if he knew the man who was speaking to him, but he could not distinguish his features through the darkness.
"The doors of my dwelling always fly open to the stranger," he remarked; "why have you not knocked at them?"
"Knowing you must come this way, I preferred waiting for you."
"What else do you desire of me, then?"
"I will tell you under your own roof; the open road is a place ill adapted for imparting confidence."
"If you have nothing more to say to me now, and are as willing as I am to get under shelter, we will continue our journey."
"Go on, then; we will follow you."
Without exchanging another word, they directed their course towards the hacienda. Don Antonio Quintana was a resolute man, as the manner in which he had replied to the men who had so rudely barred his passage proved him. In spite of the fluency with which the one who had spoken employed the Spanish language, he had, at the first word, by his guttural accent, perceived he was an Indian; and with him fear had immediately given way to curiosity, and he had not hesitated to grant the hospitality asked, knowing that the Araucano, Puelches, Hueliches, or Moluchos, never violate the roof under which they are welcomed, and that the hosts who shelter them are held sacred.