“You dare to insinuate—” began the ensign, starting to get up from his stool.
“Softly, softly, officer. I insinuate nothing,” the mule’s owner replied. “Our friend at the other end of the table began this precaution, and it is no more than polite to continue it. You will cut the cards and kill the top half of the deck?”
The ensign did as he was requested and sat down again. The mule’s owner put out a hand and took the top card. He threw it face upward on the table.
“The ten of diamonds!” he said. “It is my lucky card, señor.”
Without hesitation the caballero drew the next card and flipped it over.
“The king of diamonds!” he said. “’Tis by far the luckier card in this instance, señor. I believe the mule is mine?”
“The mule is yours—guitar and all.”
The caballero arose and bowed.
“Then I must depart from this hospitable post as soon as the neophyte fetches the beast to the door,” he said. “May I add, señor, that I hope you are able to procure a horse within a short time?”
“Your solicitude for my welfare overwhelms me,” said the man who owned the mule no longer. “I shall be in San Diego de Alcalá before you, however.”