The strangers made no answer.
"Not to be too curious," the landlord continued, not yet discouraged, "may I ask in what direction your honourable seigneuries intend to proceed?"
One of the travellers then raised his head, and, looking the indiscreet mesonero full in the face, said with a mocking air,—
"If you are asked, you will answer that you do not know. Come, my good fellow, have us attended to, and blow your own puchero, without troubling yourself about ours: you might find it too hot for you."
The host shrugged his shoulders and slipped away, the more nimbly because he noticed the colonel entering the patio at the moment, and felt no desire to come in contact with him.
The two strangers exchanged a smile, and, without further remark, watched the peon who was giving their horses the provender they had ordered.
Don Sebastian was ready to start: he had come to give a final glance to the horses before leading his daughter downstairs. Don Cornelio walked up to him so soon as he saw him, and after wishing him good day, drew him a little aside and whispered,—
"Look there, colonel," and he pointed to the two strangers; "those are sturdy fellows, if I am not mistaken."
"They are so," Don Sebastian made answer; "I did not notice them before."
"They have only just arrived. They would be famous recruits added to our party, if they would consent to travel with us. What do you think of it?"