"Very true," said the captain, pretending to see the venture in the same way. "I wish we had the affair to begin all over again: I should act in a very different way."
In the next instant the Indian reappeared.
"The garden is deserted. Not so much as a horned owl drowned out of its nest," he said.
"Ah!" sighed Pedrillo, like a martyr; "Let us go on. Only one of you remain at this post, his foot in the doorway, holding the door close, but not letting it shut, on his life."
The horseman, the Indian, and the two other Mexicans then invaded the garden. Pedrillo shook with eager heroism so that his steed participated in the tremor. It was a night, and the garden a place to inspire terror, even in the breast least timid, one must grant.
The garden was a maze designed after some labyrinth in a Spanish palace grounds, and rendered more bewildering by the luxuriant growth of the plants and shrubbery chosen to form the intervolutions.
It angered El Manco very much that Zagal would not regard the affair with his own eyes, but persisted in cherishing the plan.
"What a splendid spot for an ambush," said he. "The keenest eye cannot perceive any of us, even your Excellency on the horse's back."
"So be it," answered the captain testily. "Take your nestling places, then, at least till after this clearing-off shower. What a swamping! 'Sdeath of my life! I do not blame the men of don Benito for keeping indoors."
Diego pointed out a species of alcove of verdure into which he backed his horse, equally grateful for shelter in the worst torrent of all that had fallen.