“And the fourth, of whom you are dubious?”
“Faustino Calderon.”
“Why do you doubt me, De Lara?”
“Don’t call it doubting. I only say I’m not certain about you.”
“But for what reason?”
“Because you may be squeamish, or get scared. Not that there’s much real danger. There mayn’t be any, if the thing’s cleverly managed. But there must be no bungling; and, above all, no backing out—nothing like treason.”
“Can’t you trust me so far as to give a hint of your scheme? As to my being squeamish, I think, De Lara, you do me injustice to suppose such a thing. The experience of the last twenty-four hours has made a serious change in my way of viewing matters of morality. A man who has lost his all, and suddenly sees himself a beggar, isn’t disposed to be sensitive. Come, camarado! tell me, and try me.”
“I intend doing both, but not just yet. It’s an affair that calls for certain formalities, among them some swearing. Those who embark in it must be bound by a solemn oath; and when we all get together, that shall be done. Time enough then for you to know what I’m aiming at. Now, I only say, that if the scheme succeed, two things are sure, and both concern yourself, Faustino Calderon.”
“What are they? You can trust me with that much, I suppose?”
“Certainly I can, and shall. The first is, that you’ll be a richer man than you’ve ever been in your life, or at least since I’ve had the honour of your acquaintance. The second, that Don Gregorio Montijo will not leave California—that is, not quite so soon, nor altogether in the way he was wishing. You may have plenty of time yet, with opportunities, to press your suit with the fair Iñez.”