"Well observed, caballero," replied Don Fernando; "I know a grotto where we shall be quite at our ease. It is close at hand."
"Let us go there at once," said Don Torribio.
The three cavaliers left the beaten track, took a turn to the right, and directed their steps towards a little wood of plane trees and mahoganies, which stood at a short distance.
Anyone who had seen them thus, riding side by side, chatting and smiling to each other, would have incontestably believed them to be intimate friends, delighted at having met. However it was, nothing of the kind, as our readers will soon see.
Exactly as Don Fernando had predicted, they soon gained the wood, and found the natural grotto of which he had spoken.
The grotto was in the side of a hill of no great elevation, and its proportions were scanty enough. Carpeted with verdure inside and out, it was a charming place of repose for passing away the stifling heat of the sun at midday.
The cavaliers dismounted, took the bridle from their horses, leaving them to graze at will. They entered the grotto, and inhaled with ineffable delight the freshness caused by a slender stream of water which ran between its banks with a melancholy murmur, forming a pleasant contrast with the burning atmosphere to which they were recently exposed. They threw their zarapés on the ground, stretched themselves out comfortably, and lit their maize pajillos (cigarettes).
"I am greatly obliged to you, Don Fernando, for thinking of this delicious retreat," said Don Torribio; "now, if it is your pleasure to speak, it will be an honour to me to listen."
"Señor Don Torribio, you really overwhelm me by so much courtesy. Heaven bear witness, that if I were not your most implacable enemy, I could be your dearest friend."
"Alas!" said Don Torribio, "Heaven has disposed otherwise."