"Oh, my dear country!" cried Sacatripas, raising his hands and his eyes to Heaven with mock enthusiasm.
Don Pablo stamped with rage. He knew very well how to take the patriotic sentiments of the two fellows; and although he himself was not a man of much delicacy in such matters and in many others, this ridiculous squeamishness disgusted him. However, it was necessary for him to conceal his disgust, for he had now advanced too far to retreat.
"Oh!" cried Mataseis, "Such a proposition—to us!"
"To caballeros!" exclaimed Sacatripas, covering his face.
"So you refuse?" coldly said the Pincheyra, making a movement to rise.
"We do not say that!" quickly cried Mataseis, retaining him by the poncho.
"We never said that," echoed Sacatripas.
"Only at the thought of committing this action, our heart bleeds."
"We must, however, decide," pursued Don Pablo; "however agreeable your company may be, I cannot remain all night with you. I thought you were intelligent men, free from prejudices; that is why I chose you for this business. If it is not agreeable to you to serve me, consider that I have said nothing about it. I will propose it to others less scrupulous, who will be charmed at thus earning a hundred ounces, which is a pretty sum."
"What was it you said, señor?" sharply cried Mataseis.