However, after a while, whether he had convinced himself that his search would have no result, or for some other motive, he gave the click of the tongue peculiar to the Mexican jinetes, lifted his horse which started at an amble, and proceeded toward the Paseo de Bucareli, after bowing sarcastically to some ill-looking horsemen who were beginning to prowl round him, but whom his vigorous appearance and haughty demeanour had hitherto kept at arm's length.
Although the darkness was too dense at this moment for it to be possible to see the horseman's face distinctly, which was in addition half covered by the brim of his vicuna hat, all about him evidenced strength and youth; he was armed as if for a nocturnal expedition, and had on his saddle, in spite of police regulations, a thin, carefully rolled up reata.
We will say, parenthetically, that the reata is considered in Mexico so dangerous a weapon, that it requires special permission to carry one at the saddle-bow, in the streets of Mexico.
The salteadores, who occupy the streets after nightfall, and reign with undisputed sway over them, employ no other weapon to stop the persons they wish to plunder. They cast the running knot round their necks, dash forward at full speed, and the unlucky man, half strangled, and dragged from the saddle, falls unresistingly into their hands.
At the moment when the traveller we are following reached the Bucareli, the last carriages were leaving it, and it was soon as deserted as the Alameda. He galloped up and down the promenade twice or thrice, looking carefully down the side rides, and at the end of his third turn a horseman, coming from the Alameda, passed on his right hand, giving him in a low voice the Mexican salute, "Santísima noche, caballero!"
Although this sentence had nothing peculiar about it, the horseman started, and immediately turning his horse round, he started in pursuit of the person who had thus greeted him. Within a minute the two horsemen were side by side; the first comer, so soon as he saw that he was followed, checked his horse's pace, as if with the intention of entering into the most direct communication with the person he had addressed.
"A fine night for a ride, señor," the first horseman said, politely raising his hand to his hat.
"It is," the second answered, "although it is beginning to grow late."
"The moment is only the better chosen for certain private conversation."
The second horseman looked around, and bending over to the speaker, said—