"What's that?" El Buitre asked, not sorry to break off a conversation which was taking a personal turn rather disagreeable to him.
"A signal given by a sentry," El Garrucholo answered; "a spy who doubtlessly brings us news. We are awaiting, as you know, the passing of certain travellers."
"I know it; but they are said to be well armed, and under good escort."
"All the better; they will defend themselves, and that will be a change."
"The truth is, that those we have stopped for some time past seemed to have agreed to let themselves be plundered without a murmur."
"If the information I have received be exact, that will not be the case with the present party."
The owl cry was heard a second time, but now much nearer.
"It is time," El Garrucholo observed.
The two chiefs then put on black velvet masks, and almost immediately a man appeared, led by two bandits. On entering the clearing this individual threw around a glance rather of astonishment than terror: nothing in his conduct showed that he had fallen into an ambuscade, for his face was calm, though rather pale, and his step was assured.
The bandits who escorted him led him before the two chiefs, who examined him attentively through the holes in their masks. El Buitre then addressed the bandits in Spanish.