"That is true; but what is to be done?"
"Caray! Follow the advice I give you."
The Tigrero turned another long glance on the window, and let his head sink with an irresolute air.
"What will she say on seeing me?" he muttered.
"Caramba!" the lepero said in a sarcastic tone, "She will cry, 'You are welcome, alma mia!' It is clear, caray! Don Martial, have you become a timid child, that a woman's glance can make you tremble? Opportunity has only three hairs, in love as in war. You must seize her when she presents herself: if you do not, you run a risk of not meeting her again."
The Mexican approached the lepero near enough to touch him, and, fixing his glance on his tiger-cat eyes, said in a low and concentrated voice,—
"Cucharés, I trust in you. You know me. I have often come to your assistance. Were you to deceive my confidence I would kill you like a coyote."
The Tigrero pronounced these words with such an accent of dull fury, that the lepero, who knew the man before whom he was standing, turned pale in spite of himself, and felt a shudder of terror pass through his limbs.
"I am devoted to you, Don Martial," he replied in a voice, which he tried in vain to render firm. "Whatever may happen, count on me. What must I do?"
"Nothing; but wait, watch, at the least suspicious sound, the first hostile shadow that appears in the darkness, warn me."