"Who is this lieutenant?"
"Don Torribio, formerly a guacho."
"Oh," said Don Leoncio, disgusted, "Torribio Degüello!" (literally, Torribio the Butcher).
"¡Voto a brios!" replied Don Diego; "How I should like to plant my knee on the breast of that wretch! Well, what are we to do?"
"You forget who is with us," said Don Leoncio, quickly, casting a glance at the motionless figure behind.
"It is true," said the young man; "I am mad. Forgive me, friend; we cannot be too cautious."
"It is lucky," observed Luco, "that you have not brought Doña Antonia with you. Poor dear niña! she would die here, were she exposed to the devils in whose midst we are."
All of a sudden before Don Leoncio had time to reply, a horrible clamour arose in the rancho, several shots were heard, and a score of men and women, frantic with fear, rushed into the open with shouts of terror, and dispersed in all directions.
"Hide yourselves!" cried Luco. "Good God! What can this mean? I will be back directly; but, for God's sake, do not let them see you. Farewell for a time! I must go and see what is the matter."
Leaving Don Leoncio and his companions in dreadful anxiety, the corporal ran towards the house, where the tumult was increasing every minute.