"Do not let us speak of that. I have done what I could; unfortunately, the reception has been poor enough. Times are hard. Only four or five years ago it would have been different; but from him who does all he can, people cannot ask more."
"I am far from complaining—on the contrary. But you are returning from a walk, it seems to me?"
"Yes, I have been to give an eye to my oxen which are at pasture. But," added he, raising his eyes to the sky and mentally calculating the height of the sun, "it is time to breakfast. Will you return with me?"
"I do not ask anything better; only I do not see my companion. It appears to me that it would ill become me not to wait breakfast for him."
"If that is all that hinders you," said the gaucho, laughing, "you can eat without fear."
"He is about to return?" I asked.
"On the contrary, he will not return."
"How is that?" I cried with surprise, mingled with uneasiness; "He is gone away?"
"Already more than three hours ago. But," he added, "we shall see him again soon; he wished to speak to you about it before mounting his horse; but, on reflecting on it, you appeared so fatigued yesterday evening that he preferred to allow you to sleep—sleep is so good."
"He will return without doubt, soon?"