"Señor conde——" he said in a panting voice, and then stopped.
"Well," the count asked, "what is the meaning of those challenges I heard?"
"Señor," Don Cornelio continued with an effort, "General Guerrero, accompanied by his daughter, several other ladies, a dozen officers, and a powerful escort, requests to be introduced to your presence."
"He is welcome. At length, then, he consents to treat directly with me."
Don Cornelio withdrew to carry out the orders he had received, and soon a brilliant cavalcalde, at the head of which was General Guerrero, entered the mission. The general was pale, and frowned: it was easy to see that he with difficulty suppressed a dumb fury that filled his heart. The adventurers, in scattered groups, and haughtily wrapped up in their rags, regarded curiously these smart Mexican officers, so vain and so glittering with gold, who scarce deigned to bestow a glance upon them. The count walked a few paces toward the general, and uncovered with a movement full of singular grace.
"You are welcome, general," he said in his gentle voice; "I am happy to receive your visit."
The general did not even lift his finger to his embroidered hat, but, suddenly stopping his horse when scarce two paces from the count,—
"What is the meaning of this, sir?" he exclaimed in an angry voice. "You are guarded as if in a fortress! You have, Heaven pardon me! sentries and patrols round your encampment, as if you were in command of a regular army."
The count bit his lips; but he restrained himself, and replied in a calm, though grave voice,—
"We are on the edge of the despoblados (deserts), general, and our safety depends on our vigilance. Although I am not the commander of an army, I answer for the safety of the men I have the honour of leading. But will you not dismount, general, so that we may discuss more at our ease the grave questions which doubtless bring you here?"