"For myself, personally, no!" answered Don Pedro disdainfully.
"But," continued the freebooter, with a glance towards the wounded lady, "for the young girl?"
The hacendero trembled; a livid pallor overspread his features.
"You cannot mean what you are saying," was his answer; "for the honour of humanity, I will not think so. The Apaches themselves, fierce as they are, feel their rage vanish before the feebleness of woman."
"Have I not among the dwellers in cities the reputation of being fiercer than the fierce Apaches,—even than the very beasts?"
"Let us end this," replied Don Pedro haughtily; "since I have been fool enough, in spite of repeated warnings, to place myself in your hands, dispose of me as you think fit; but deliver me from the torture I undergo in conversing with you."
The Tigercat frowned; he struck the ground forcibly with the butt of his rifle, muttering some unintelligible words; but, by an extreme effort of his will, his features instantaneously resumed their habitual imperturbability, every trace of emotion vanished from his voice, and he answered, in the calmest tone:
"In beginning the conversation, about which you seem to care so little, caballero, I said to you, 'What do you know about it?'"
"Well?" said the hacendero, surprised and overcome, in spite of his efforts, by the strange change in the dreaded speaker.
"Well," replied the latter, "I repeat the phrase, not, as you may suppose, in mockery, but simply to elicit your frank opinion of me."