"What is to be done?" the hacendero asked the general.
"Go on, of course. We have just escaped too great a peril for us to fear this. Even in the event of the mysterious being planted there before us, like an equestrian statue, trying to play us a trick, which is not impossible."
"Let us trust to Heaven," Don Miguel muttered, and pushed on.
The distance separating them from the stranger was soon cleared. On coming within five yards of him, they stopped.
"Santas tardes, caballeros," said the stranger, in a friendly voice.
"Santas tardes!" the gentlemen answered, in accord.
"I salute you, Don Miguel Zarate, and you, General Ibañez," the stranger then said. "I am happy to see you at length safe and sound out of the claws of that worthy General Ventura, who, if he could, would certainly have played you a trick."
"Caballero," Don Miguel made answer, "I thank you for the kind words you address to me, and which can only come from a friend's lips. I should be pleased if you would take off the mask that conceals your features, so that I may recognise you."
"Gentlemen, if I removed my mask you would be disappointed, for my features are unfamiliar to you. Do not be angry with me for keeping it on; but, be assured that you are not mistaken with regard to me, and I am really your friend."
The two Mexicans bowed courteously to each other, and the stranger went on.