“Gracias!—mil gracias!” he ejaculated, crowding everything into his pocket. “But your ladyships will scarce care to accept thanks from me. ’Twill be more to your satisfaction to know that your generosity will be the saving of valuable lives, two of them, if I mistake not, very dear to you. Oh! won’t the Señores Don Ruperto and Don Florencio be delighted at the tale I shall take back—the Virgin seeing me safe! Not for the provisions I may carry, but how I obtained the means of purchasing them. But as time’s pressing, Señorita, I won’t say a word more, only Adios!”
Without waiting for permission to depart, or rejoinder of any kind, he slipped down from the wall, and disappeared on its other side.
It was an abrupt leave-taking, which alike surprised and disappointed them. For they had many questions to ask, and intended asking him—many anxieties they wished set at rest.
Chapter Fifty.
An Encounter with Old Acquaintances.
Passing out of the San Augustin towards the city, the great National Road, as already said, touches upon the Pedregal, the lava rocks here and there rising cliff-like over it. On the other side are level meadows stretching to the shore of the Laguna de Xochimilco; this last overgrown with a lush aquatic vegetation called the cinta, at a distance appearing more pastureland than lake. Excellent pasturage is afforded on the strip between; that end of it adjacent to the pueblo being apportioned among several of the rich proprietors of villas, who turn their household stock upon it, as milch kine, and horses kept for the saddle or carriage.
Just about the time when the hunchback was abruptly bidding “Adios” to the ladies, a man might have been seen moving along this part of the road at some half-mile distance from the skirts of the village, with face turned cityward. But that he had no intention of journeying so far was evident both by his gait and the character of his dress. He was going at a slow walk, now and then loitering, as if time was of little consequence. Moreover, he was in his shirt sleeves, and without the universal serape, which often serves for both cloak and coat. Otherwise his garb was the ordinary stable wear of a Mexican gentleman’s servant; wide velveteen trousers open along the outer seams, and fended with leather at breech and bottoms. “Batos” and a black glaze hat completed his habiliments, with a scarf of China crape, the chammora, around his waist. Scanning the face shadowed by the broad rim of his sombrero, it was seen to be that of José, Don Ignacio’s groom; while his errand along that road could be guessed, by seeing what he carried over his arm—a couple of slip halters. The horses, for whom they were intended, were to be seen standing at a gate, a little further, having browsed their fill; a pair of greys, recognisable as the famous frisones; all the easier now from one of them showing a split ear. They had been turned out to cool their hoofs on the soft meadow sward, and he was on his way to take them back to their stable.
Along the other side of the road, for a stretch of some distance, extended the Pedregal, forming a low ridge with a precipitous face towards the causeway. As the cochero got up to where his pets were expecting him, he saw a coyote standing upon the crest cliff, just opposite the horses, in an attitude and with an air as if it had been holding conversation with them. Solely for frolic’s sake, he made a rush towards it, giving a swoop and swinging the halters around his head. Of course, the affrighted animal turned tail, and retreated; instantly disappearing from his sight. The little spurt had carried him in under the shadow of the rocks; and as he faced round to recross the moonlit causeway, he saw coming along it that which, by some mysterious instinct, prompted him to keep his place. After all, no mystery about it; for in the diminutive, crab-like form seen approaching, he recognised the dwarf-hunchback who had shared the box seat with him on that day never to be forgotten.