But it was only the work of a minute for the unknown to regain his coolness, and become completely master of himself.
"Replace your pistols in your girdle, Señor," said he; "they are not wanted here; you have nothing to fear from me."
"I am pleased to hear it," answered the painter; "but what guarantee do you give me?"
"My word as a gentleman," he replied, with dignity.
Although the painter had been but a few months in America, he had been often enough in a position to study the character of the inhabitants of the country, to know what reliance he might place on this word so proudly given. So, after having affirmatively nodded his head:
"I accept it," said he, uncocking his pistols, and placing them in his girdle.
The unknown picked up his gun.
Without, the noise still continued, but its character had changed; it was no longer a combat which was heard, but the sound of iron striking the ground, and loud cries; they were seeking the fugitive.
"Come, follow me," pursued the young man; "you must not remain any longer here."
The unknown smiled with an air of raillery.