"There are people whom a man cannot mean to insult," the stranger continued in a cutting voice. "Remember this, señor padre—I do not wish to have any dealings with you."
"Why so?"
"Because I do not please—that is all. Now, gentlemen, do not trouble yourselves about me, I beg, but continue your conversation: it was most interesting when I arrived. You were speaking, I believe, about an expedition you are preparing: there was a question too, I fancy, when I entered, about a girl your worthy friend, or partner—I do not know which he is—carried off with your assistance. Do not let me disturb you. I should, on the contrary, be delighted to learn what you intend doing with that unhappy creature."
No words could render the feeling of stupor and terror which seized on the three partners at this, crushing revelation of their plans. When they fancied they had completely concealed them by their cunning and skill, to see them thus suddenly unveiled in all their extent by a man whom they did not know, but who knew them, and in consequence could only be an enemy—this terrified them to such a degree that for a moment they fancied they had to do with the spirit of evil. The two Mexicans crossed themselves simultaneously, while the American uttered a hoarse exclamation of rage.
But Red Cedar and Fray Ambrosio were men too hardened in iniquity for any event, however grave in its nature, to crush them for long. The first moment past, they recovered themselves, and amazement gave way to fury. The monk drew from his vaquera boot a knife, and posted himself before the door to prevent egress; while Red Cedar, with frowning brow and a machete in his hand, advanced resolutely toward the table, behind which their bold adversary, standing with folded arms, seemed to defy them by his ironical smile.
"Whoever you may be," Red Cedar said, stopping two paces from his opponent, "chance has made you master of a secret that kills, and you shall die."
"Do you really believe that I owe a knowledge of your secrets to chance?" the other said with a mocking accent.
"Defend yourself," Red Cedar howled furiously, "If you do not wish me to assassinate you; for, con mil diablos! I shall not hesitate, I warn you."
"I know it," the stranger replied quietly. "I shall not be the first person to whom that has happened: the Sierra Madre and El Bolsón de Mapimi have often heard the agonising cries of your victims, when Indians were wanting to fill up your number of scalps."
At this allusion to his frightful trade the squatter felt a livid pallor cover his face, a tremor agitated all his limbs, and he yelled in a choking voice,—