“Friend!” cried Costal, interrupting him, and evidently ill pleased with his looks, “a captain in the army of General Morelos is no friend to such as you.”
“What does this brute of an Indian say?” demanded Gaspacho, regarding Costal with an air of contempt.
The eyes of Costal fairly blazed with rage; and his movements promised for Gaspacho a terrible chastisement, when Don Cornelio interposed to prevent it. “What is your wish?” asked he of the follower of Arroyo.
“To know if you have seen anything of that rascal, Juan de Zapote, and his worthy companion, Gaspar?”
“We have seen neither Zapote nor Gaspar.”
“If they’re not found, then, my friend Perico—who met and permitted them to pass him—is likely to spend a most uncomfortable quarter of an hour—when he appears in the presence of our Captain Arroyo.”
“Ah! you are in Arroyo’s service then?”
“I have the honour.”
“Perhaps you can tell me where I shall be most likely to find him?”
“Quien sabe? By the ford of the Ostuta you may find him—if he’s not gone elsewhere—to the hacienda of San Carlos, for example.”