“No man ever aimed at an object more desirable than this immense dowry and this fair flower of the desert. Spare no pains, therefore, to win both the lady and the fortune.”
“If necessary I shall spin for her, as Hercules at the feet of Omphalé.”
“Ha, ha ha!” laughed the Spaniard. “If Hercules had any merits in the eyes of Omphalé, it was not on account of his spinning, but because he was Hercules. No—do better than spin. To-morrow Don Augustin has a hunt among his wild steeds; there will be an opportunity for you to distinguish yourself by some daring exploit. Mount one of the wildest of the horses, for the honour of the beautiful eyes of Rosarita, and after having tamed him, ride him up panting into her presence. That will gain you more grace than handling the thread and distaff à la Hercules.”
The Senator responded to these counsels with a sigh: and Don Estevan, having given him further instructions as to how he was to act during the absence of the expedition, took leave of him, and repaired to the chamber of Don Augustin.
The clank of his heavy spurs, as he entered the sleeping apartment of the haciendado, awoke the latter—who on opening his eyes and seeing his nocturnal visitor in full riding-costume, cried out:
“What! is it time to set forth upon the chase? I did not know the hour was so late!”
“No, Don Augustin,” replied the Spaniard, “but for me the hour has come to set forth upon a more serious pursuit than that of wild horses. I hasten to pursue the enemy of your house—the man who has abused your hospitality, and who if not captured, may bring ruin upon all our projects.”
“The enemy of my house! the man who has abused my hospitality!” cried the haciendado, starting up in astonishment, and seizing a long Toledo rapier that hung by the side of his bed, “Who is the man that has acted so, Don Estevan?”
“Be calm!” said Don Estevan, smiling inwardly at the contrast exhibited between the spirit of the haciendado and the pusillanimity of the Senator. “Be calm! the enemy I speak of is no longer under your roof—he has fled beyond the reach of your just vengeance.”
“But who is he?” impatiently demanded Don Augustin.