"'In heaven's name,' the pulquero exclaimed, making one last effort at resistance, 'how do you expect me to set about it? You forget that I have no means—'"
"'Listen,' Don Torribio said, imperiously; 'you understand that I have no time for discussion. You will either introduce us into the convent, and this purse, which contains fifty ounces, is yours; or you refuse, and in that case,' he added, coldly, as he drew a pistol from his girdle, 'I blow out your brains with this.'"
"A cold perspiration bedewed the pulquero's temples. He was too well acquainted with the bandits of his country to insult them for a moment by doubting their words."
"'Well!' the other asked, as he cocked the pistol, 'have you reflected?'"
"'Cáspita, Caballero! Do not play with that thing. I will try.'"
"'Here is the purse to sharpen your wits,' Don Torribio said."
"The pulquero clutched it with a movement of joy, any idea of which it is impossible to give; then he walked slowly towards the convent gate, while cudgelling his brains for some way in which to earn the sum he had received, without running any risk—a problem, we confess, of which it was not easy to find the solution."
[1] Literally "Bread and salt for the knight-errants."