"Will you not honour us by partaking of the repast you have gallantly offered us?" said Don Pedro, seeing that the old man continued standing.
"You must excuse me, caballero," replied the Tigercat civilly, but peremptorily. "I broke my fast long ago."
"Indeed!" said the hacendero, not content with the answer; "Then, at least, you will consent to empty this horn of pulque to my health."
"It grieves me to refuse you, señor; but it is impossible!" and he bowed.
These repeated refusals caused a sudden coolness between the guests and their host, in spite of the apparent graciousness of the old man's hospitality,—for the Americans of New Spain resemble the Arabs in this, that they only consent to eat and drink with those towards whom their intentions are friendly.
A vague suspicion crossed the mind of Don Pedro; and he looked inquiringly at his host, but could see nothing in the smiling face of the old man to justify his apprehension.
The repast was eaten silently. At its termination, Doña Hermosa, after thanking the Tigercat for his profuse hospitality, asked him if, before she left, she could not see the hunter who had rendered her such invaluable service the evening before.
"He is absent at present, señorita,—absent in your service; but I expect him to return immediately."
The doña was about to ask for an explanation of these words, when a sound, resembling distant thunder, arose in the forest, and grew louder and louder every minute.
"And here," continued the Tigercat, "comes the very man whom you desired to see; he will be with you directly. The noise you hear is caused by the galloping of the horses he brings with him."