"I will admit it: what, then, do you propose?"
"This: we will have a game at cards—the first to whom el as de copas (the ace of hearts) falls shall win, and be master over the life of his opponent, who shall be bound to blow out his brains as he sits there."
"Not so bad; the idea is ingenious."
"And why not señor?—It is just like a common game, only the loser cannot have his revenge. Now, where are the cards?"
It was then discovered that these three gallant caballeros, who never played, had each a pack of cards in his pocket. They produced them with such spontaneousness, that all three could not help bursting into Homeric laughter.
We have already said, somewhere, that in Mexico the passion for gambling is carried beyond the verge of madness; so that the facility with which Don Torribio accepted the game proposed by his foe has nothing in it to astonish those who know the character of those strange Mexicans, who carry everything to extremes, and for whom anything unexpected and extraordinary has always an irresistible attraction.
"One moment, señores," said Don Estevan, who had hitherto listened without joining in the conversation; "perhaps there might still be another way."
"What other?" exclaimed Don Fernando and Don Torribio, turning briskly to him.
"Is your mutual hatred so great, that in reality it can only be satisfied by the death of one or the other?"
"It is," said Don Torribio hoarsely.