Still, Clary was too thorough a horseman to feel afraid of being thrown; unable to master his horse entirely, and wishing to cause the least possible misfortune, he contented himself with turning it down a side street, the entrance to which was about a pistol shot off. He was lucky enough to succeed, and soon, thanks to the headlong speed of their horses, the four riders, after whom the mob had begun to run with yells of fury, found themselves safe from pursuit in a completely deserted street. So soon as the horses were no longer excited, they checked their speed, and soon fell into a moderate pace.
"¡Sangre de Cristo!" the adventurer exclaimed, so soon as he found time to breathe, "That was sharp work; I fancied we should not get out of it."
"Well!" said Diego López, "Your body and mine were within an ace of becoming knife sheaths. Oh!" he added, with a shudder of retrospective terror, "I can still feel the goose flesh."
"In truth, our position was for a moment extremely critical. Confound the incarnate demon who dared to burn my horse's nostrils. I only hope we have not smashed twenty of those wretches; I shall never forgive myself if we have."
"No," the peon answered, "thank heaven, they are more frightened than hurt. Luckily the house doors were open, and they were able to find shelter in them; two or three at the most were injured."
"Heaven grant that the mischief is no greater; but what are we to do now?"
"Proceed to the nearest mesón to get rid of our horses."
"I ask for nothing better; lead me there directly."
"Where are we, in the first place?" the peon said, as he looked round to discover his whereabouts. "¡Viva Dios!" he continued at the expiration of a moment, "We are in luck; there is a mesón a few yards from here; come on."
They started again, and soon reached the mesón Diego López had spoken of. Mexican hostelries are all alike, and when you know one, you know a thousand. Travellers who bring with them their beds, provisions, and forage for their horses are alone certain of being well served, and wanting for nothing; those who neglect these essential precautions run a great risk of lying on the bare ground and dying of hunger. The landlords only supply water and a roof, and it is useless to ask them for anything beyond that: not even a cigarette could be obtained for any money. It is true that Mexican landlords possess one precious quality, or, to speak more logically, four. They are thievish, insolent, obstinate as mules, and only lodge travellers who have the good luck to please them.