“Will end as their father did,” replied Elias in a low voice. “When misfortune has once singled out a family all its members must perish,—when the lightning strikes a tree the whole is reduced to ashes.”
Ibarra fell silent on hearing this, so Elias took his leave. When the youth found himself alone he lost the serene self-possession he had maintained in the pilot’s presence. His sorrow pictured itself on his countenance. “I, I have made her suffer,” he murmured.
He dressed himself quickly and descended the stairs. A small man, dressed in mourning, with a large scar on his left cheek, saluted him humbly, and detained him on his way.
“What do you want?” asked Ibarra.
“Sir, my name is Lucas, and I’m the brother of the man who was killed yesterday.”
“Ah, you have my sympathy. Well?”
“Sir, I want to know how much you’re going to pay my brother’s family.”
“Pay?” repeated the young man, unable to conceal his disgust. “We’ll talk of that later. Come back this afternoon, I’m in a hurry now.”
“Only tell me how much you’re willing to pay,” insisted Lucas.
“I’ve told you that we’ll talk about that some other time. I haven’t time now,” repeated Ibarra impatiently.