"Caspita! what vivacity, compadre!" Andrés exclaimed. "But, before talking, I hope you will take some refreshment at any rate. There is nothing like a cup of mezcal or pulque to clear the brain."
"Not to forget," Fray Ambrosio said, "that it is infernally hot, and my tongue is glued to my palate, as I have swallowed so much dust."
"Cuerpo de Dios!" Andrés said as he went to look for a bottle among several others arranged on a sort of bar, and placed it before the travellers. "Pay attention to that, señor padre; for it is serious, and you run a risk of death, caray!"
"Give me the remedy, then, chatterer," the monk replied as he held out his glass.
The mezcal, liberally poured out, was swallowed at a draught by the three men, who put back their glasses on the table with a "hum" of satisfaction, and that clinking of the tongue peculiar to topers when they are swallowing anything that tickles the throat.
"And now suppose we talk seriously," Red Cedar said.
"At your orders, señores caballeros," Andrés replied. "Still, if you prefer a hand at monte, you know that I have cards at your service."
"Presently, señor Andrés, presently. Everything will have its turn. Let us first settle our little business," Fray Ambrosio judiciously observed.
Andrés Garote bowed his head in resignation, while thrusting back into his pocket the pack of cards he had already half drawn out. The three men made themselves as comfortable as they could, and Red Cedar, after casting a suspicious glance around him, at length took the word.
"You know, caballeros," he said, "how, when we thought we had nothing to do but proceed straight to Apacheria, the sudden desertion of nearly all our gambusinos checked us. The position was most critical for us, and the abduction of Doña Clara compelled us to take the utmost precautions."