"Very good; I ask for no explanation, but, as your affairs interest me very slightly, and I have important matters of my own to attend to, you will permit me to retire."
"Why so?" the ranchero asked quickly; "we are comfortable together, then why should we separate?"
"Because, in all probability, we are not going the same road."
"Who knows, Niña, whether we are not destined to travel in company since I have met you?"
"I am not of that opinion. I am about to join a man whom I fancy you would not at all like to meet face to face."
"I don't know, Niña," the ranchero answered, with considerable animation; "I want to revenge myself on that accursed monk called Fray Ambrosio; I am too weak to do so by myself, or, to speak more correctly, too great a coward."
"Very good," the girl exclaimed, with a smile; "then how will you manage that your vengeance does not slip from you?"
"Oh, very simply; I know a man in the desert who detests him mortally, and would give a great deal to have sufficient proofs against him, for, unfortunately, that man has the failing of being honest."
"Indeed."
"Yes, what would you have? No man is perfect."