"I mean that you will henceforth do me the great pleasure of going wherever you like, so long as it is not with us, and that I intend from this moment to have nothing more in common with you. This is clear, is it not?"
"Perfectly clear, señor, and hence I will not abuse your patience any longer: supply me with the requisite horses for my sister and myself, and I will leave you immediately."
"Hang me if I supply you with anything: as for this young lady, here are several gentlemen coming who, I am afraid, will hardly let you take her away with you."
Don Melchior turned pale with rage, but he comprehended that any resistance on his part was impossible: he folded his arms on his chest, drew himself up haughtily and waited. The count, the majordomo, and Dominique were really hurrying up. Cuéllar walked some paces toward them—and the young man felt rather anxious, for they did not know the partisan's intentions, and apprehended that he might declare against them.
But Cuéllar hastened to disabuse them: "You arrive opportunely, señores," he said with a kindly accent: "I hope that you have not done me the insult of supposing that I was in any way connected with the trap to which you so nearly fell victims."
"We did not believe it for a moment, señor," the count politely replied.
"I thank you for the good opinion you entertain of me, señores: of course you have come to request that this young lady may be delivered to you."
"That is certainly our intention, señor."
"And if I refuse to let you remove her," don Melchior said fiercely.
"I shall blow out your brains, señor," the partisan coolly interrupted. "Believe me, you had better not try to contend with me, but rather profit by my present good temper to be off: for I might soon repent of this last reproof of my kindness I give you, and abandon you to your enemies."