"Cuéllar is a scoundrel," don Felipe exclaimed violently.
"I am well aware of it," don Diego replied gently; "but what do I care for that? By giving him ten thousand piastres beforehand, I am certain that he will accept my proposition, which has the additional advantage of being very honourable."
The colonel filled the glasses: he seemed absorbed in thought. "Confound it," he said, "that is a tidy sum you offer."
"Well, you understand, my dear sir, that I am not the man to ask any friend of mine to undertake such a job gratuitously."
"But Cuéllar is no friend of yours."
"It is true, and that is why I feel sorry about applying to him."
"But what is the matter to be done?"
"It is a secret."
"Am I not your friend? Be assured that I will be as dumb as the grave."
Don Diego appeared to reflect.