"Come," resumed the Tigercat, turning to the hacendero.
The troop began again to ascend the hillock, following in the footsteps of the old freebooter, close to whom rode their former guide.
After some turnings and windings in the path, of more or less abruptness, some of which caused the Mexicans no little difficulty, the Tigercat turned towards the hacendero, and addressed him in a voice perfectly free from embarrassment:
"I beg you to excuse my guiding you over such villainous roads; unfortunately they are the only ones leading to my dwelling. It is at hand; in a few minutes we shall be there."
"But I see no traces of habitation," replied Don Pedro, vainly, scanning the country in all directions.
"True," said the Tigercat, with a smile; "nevertheless, we are hardly an hundred paces from the end of our journey; and I can assure you the abode to which I am leading you would harbour a hundred times our present numbers."
"I have not much idea where this dwelling is to be found, unless it be subterranean, as I begin to suspect."
"You have almost guessed it. The place I inhabit, if not subterranean in the strict sense of the word, is at least a dwelling covered by the ground. Few have entered it to leave it again safe and sound, as you shall."
"So much the worse," retorted roundly the hacendero; "so much the worse for them—and for you."
The Tigercat frowned, but immediately replied, in the light and careless tone he had affected for the last few minutes: