"Why, señor Don Martial, do you wish to insult me by taking me for a pavo (goose)?"
"By no means, gossip: still—"
"Still you believe it. Well, you are mistaken, caballero, and I am not sorry to tell you so. During the very few hours which I spent at the hacienda I made inquiries, and, as I announced myself the bearer of a most important mission for el señor conde, no one made any bones about answering me. It seems that the Apaches, instead of pushing on, were so thoroughly beaten by the French (for whom, by the way, they feel an enormous respect), that they are returning on the desert del Norte, in order to regain their villages. The conde is pursuing them, is he not?"
"You told me so."
"Well, in all probability he will not dare to enter the desert."
"Naturally," the Tigrero said with a shudder, in spite of his tried courage.
"Well, then, he can only stop at one spot."
"At the Casa Grande!" Don Martial exclaimed quickly.
"Quite right! I am certain of finding him there."
"Body of me! Go there, then."