Crevel gazed for a moment in amazement at the man who had given this order. The sobriety of the smuggler was proverbial at Valparaíso; he had never been seen to drink more than one or two glasses of Pisco, and then it was only on great occasions, or to please his friend Diego, whom he knew to be very fond of strong liquors, like all the Indians. When a bottle of aguardiente was served to the two men, the Indian finished it alone, for Leon scarce wet his lips. Hence the landlord was almost knocked off his feet on receiving his guest's unusual order.
"Well, did you not hear me?" Leon resumed, impatiently.
"Yes, yes, sir," Crevel replied; "but—"
"But it surprises you, I suppose?"
"I confess it."
"It is true," Leon said, with a mocking smile, "that it is not my habit to drink."
"That it is not," said Crevel.
"Well, I am going to take to it, that's all. And what do you find surprising in that?"
"Nothing, of course."
"Then bring me what I asked for."