"That is a great pity."
"Why so?"
"Because," coldly remarked the count, drawing from under his poncho a pistol loaded and cocked, "if you say one word more—if you do not follow us on the instant—I will blow your brains out."
The painter burst out laughing.
"You would not be stupid enough to do that!" said he.
"And why?"
"Because you would be immediately arrested; because important reasons oblige you to remain unknown; and because my death would not be sufficiently advantageous to you for you thus to risk your personal safety for the pleasure of killing me."
"¡Cuerpo de Cristo!" cried the captain, laughing; "Well answered, on my word. You are beaten, my dear count."
"All is not finished between us," said the count, gnashing his teeth, but putting aside his weapon.
"I am astonished, Señor," coolly resumed the young man, "that you—an hidalgo, a gentleman of the old stamp—that you should every now and then manifest such bad taste."