"And by what right," said the Linda, in a haughty tone, "does the fellow presume to confide to others the care of accomplishing the orders I give him?"
"Joan is my friend," the man replied.
"What are the ties that unite you to me:" she asked, contemptuously.
"The mission you charged him with is accomplished."
"Ay—but faithfully?"
"The woman is there," he said, pointing to the room in which Doña Rosario was; "during the journey she has spoken to nobody, and I can guarantee that she does not know to what place she has been brought."
At this assurance the look of Doña Maria softened a little, and it was in a less sharp and haughty tone she continued—
"But why did Joan give up his place to you?"
"Oh!" the man said with a feigned bluntness, belied by his cunning eye, "for a very simple reason; Joan is at this moment attracted towards the plain by the black eyes of the wife of a paleface, which sparkle like fireflies in the night. The woman's toldo is built in the country, near the toldería which you call, I think, Concepción. Although such conduct be unworthy of a warrior, his heart is flying constantly towards this woman, in spite of himself, and until he gain possession of her, he will never be in his senses."
"Well, then," the Linda interrupted, stamping her foot with vexation, "why does not the fool carry her off?"