"Hum," the baron said when he found himself again alone with the count, "that don Melchior appears to me to be an ugly customer."
"I entirely share that opinion," the count answered distinctly.
At about three in the afternoon, doña Dolores sent to ask the young men if they would do her the honour of offering her their company for a few moments: they eagerly accepted and hastened to join her. They crossed don Melchior in the courtyard: the young man did not speak to them, but looked after them till they had entered his sister's apartments.
A month passed, and nothing occurred to disturb the monotonous existence of the inhabitants of the hacienda.
The count and his friend frequently went out, accompanied by the majordomo, either to shoot or simply for a ride; sometimes, though rarely, doña Dolores accompanied them.
Now that the count was no longer alone with her, she seemed to be less afraid of meeting him and at times even to take pleasure in it: she favourably accepted his gallantries, smiled at the sallies that escaped from him and under all circumstances, evidenced perfect confidence in him. But it was more especially to the pretended baron that she displayed a marked preference, either because knowing what he really was, she considered him of no importance, or because, through a pure caprice of feminine coquetry, she liked to sport with this native, whose indomitable energy she did not suspect, and wished to try the power of her charms on the simple young man.
Dominique did not perceive, or pretended not to perceive, the young lady's manoeuvres: though exquisitely polite to her and most attentive, he still remained within the strict limits he had laid down for himself, not wishing to render a man jealous, for whom he professed a sincere friendship, and whom he knew to be on the point of marrying doña Dolores.
As for don Melchior, his character had grown more and more sombre, his absences had become longer and more frequent, and on the rare occasions when accident brought him across the young men, he returned their bow silently, without deigning to say a syllable to them: in a word, the repugnance he had felt for them from the outset, had changed with the course of time into a good and hearty Mexican hatred.
In the meanwhile, political events pressed on with ever increasing rapidity: Juárez' troops seriously occupied the country: already scouts belonging to his party had appeared in the neighbourhood of the hacienda: people talked vaguely of Spanish chateaux taken by assault, plundered, burnt, and whose owners had been cowardly assassinated by the guerilleros. The anxiety was great at Arenal: don Andrés de la Cruz, who was not reassured as to the future by the fact of his being a Spaniard, took the most extensive precautions not to be surprised by the enemy. The question of abandoning the hacienda and retiring to Puebla had even been agitated several times, but had constantly been obstinately repelled by don Melchior.
Still, the strange conduct which the young man displayed ever since the count had been at the hacienda, his affectation of keeping aloof, his long and frequent absences, and, more than all, the recommendations of don Oliver, whose mistrust doubtless aroused a long time before, and based on facts known to himself alone, had led to Dominique's presence at the hacienda under the name of Baron de Meriadec, aroused the suspicions of Count de Saulay, suspicions to which the antipathy he had felt for don Melchior since the first day of seeing him, almost gave the strength of certainty.