Dominique did not understand a word. He gazed at Oliver with amazement, not knowing what to think of the words he was uttering.
"But tell me," he at length said, with an outburst of passion, "what is the meaning of this? I save a man—Heaven knows how—by my care: in spite of a thousand difficulties I succeed in bringing here this poor wretch, who, without me, I may safely say, would have died like a dog, and this is how you greet me!"
"Yes, yes, rejoice!" the adventurer said to him, with a bitter accent; "You have committed a good action. I congratulate you on it, Dominique, my friend! It will benefit you, be sure, and that ere long!"
"You know that I do not understand you!" the young man exclaimed.
"Well! is there any need that you should understand me, poor boy?" he replied, with a disdainful shrug of his shoulders. "You have acted according to your nature, without reflection or afterthought. I have no more reproaches to address to you, than explanations to offer you."
"But, come; what do you mean?"
"Do you know this man?"
"Really, no. How should I know him?"
"I do not ask you that. Since you do not know him, how is it that you are bringing him to the rancho, without giving us notice?"
"For a very simple reason. I was returning from Cholula, when I found him lying across the road, groaning like a bull in the death throes. What could I do? Did not humanity command me to succor him? Is it permissible to let a Christian die in such a way without attempting to aid him?"