"I desire nothing better, caballero. I can only be the gainer by your conversation," replied the other, bowing, with an insinuating smile.
The two enemies placed themselves side by side, as if nothing extraordinary had happened between them.
This is one of the distinctive traits of Mexican character: murder amongst these people has grown so thoroughly into a habit, that it never astonishes anyone; and it often happens that the man just escaped falling a victim to an ambuscade, does not scruple to press the hand extended by his would-be assassin, foreseeing that someday or other he too will be called on to play in his turn the part of murderer.
In the present circumstances it was certainly not this consideration which induced the cavalier to act as he was doing. He had a powerful motive, with which we shall become acquainted presently; for, in spite of his feigned indifference, it was only with a sentiment of lively disgust that he seated himself beside the bandit.
As to the latter, we feel ourselves bound in justice to state that he had only one feeling of regret—the shame of having missed his blow; but he promised himself, in petto, to take his revenge as soon as possible, and this time to take such sure precautions that he must succeed.
"What are you thinking of?" demanded the cavalier, all of a sudden.
"I? On my honour, nothing," was the ingenuous reply.
"You would deceive me. I know what you are thinking of at this very moment."
"Oh, as for that, permit me to tell you—"
"You were thinking of killing me," said the cavalier, interrupting him abruptly.