Just at the bend in the road, a cavalier, trotting hurriedly in the direction of the presidio, passed close to the three men; but, immersed in their thoughts, neither stranger nor vaqueros took notice of him. As to the cavalier, he darted a rapid and piercing look at them, and gradually slackened his horse's speed, which he stopped altogether a few yards further on.
"God forgive me!" he said to himself; that is Don Fernando Carril, or else the devil in flesh and bone. That fool, Zapote, has missed him again, then! What business can he have out here, in company with those two bandits, who look like agents of Satan? May I never be Torribio Quiroga if I don't find out, and if I do not put myself on their traces.
Señor Don Torribio Quiroga was an individual of not more than thirty-five, with a rather stout figure, under the middle height. But to make up for it, the squareness of his shoulders, and thick-set limbs, gave unmistakable evidence of great muscular power. Little grey eyes, lively, and sparkling with malice and audacity, lit up a face which was perhaps somewhat vulgar. He was dressed in the costume of all Mexicans of a certain rank.
He dismounted, and looked about for somebody to hold his horse, but could see no one; for, at San Lucar, and especially in the new pueblo, it was almost a miracle to meet two persons passing through the streets at the same time. He stamped in anger, threw the reins over his arm, and led his horse to the pulquería whence the vaqueros had come, confiding him to the care of the landlord.
Having carefully completed this duty—for the Mexican's dearest friend is his horse—Don Torribio retraced his steps with the most minute precaution, like a man who wishes to see without himself being seen.
The vaqueros had gained considerably upon him, and disappeared behind a hillock of shifting sand just at the moment when he turned the angle of the lane: however, he soon saw them again as they were toiling up a steep and rough path leading to a clump of trees, which by chance or some caprice of nature had shot up among the arid sands.
Sure of finding them now, Don Torribio began to walk more slowly, and lit a cigar, to keep himself in countenance in case of surprise, or to prevent any casual suspicion of his intentions. Luckily, the vaqueros never looked back once, but entered the wood close upon the heels of the man recognised by Don Torribio as Don Fernando Carril.
When, in his turn, Don Torribio arrived at the margin of the wood, he took good care not to walk straight into it. He first made a slight détour to the right; then, bending down to the ground, he commenced crawling on hands and knees, taking special care to avoid any noise that might excite the attention of the vaqueros.
The sound of voices soon reached him. Gently raising his head, he perceived, in a small clearing close at hand, the figures of the three men, who had stopped, and were engaged in a lively conversation. He rose from the ground, and hid himself behind a maple tree.
Don Fernando Carril had dropped his cloak, leaning with his shoulders against a tree, and, with his legs crossed, he was listening with visible impatience to what Pablito was saying.