“I have,” answered Tiburcio. “I have no reproach to make against its owner, Don Augustin Peña; he has not refused me hospitality; but there are other guests under his roof with whom my life is not safe.”
“Oh, that!” exclaimed Pepé, appearing to become more interested; “has anything happened to you?”
Tiburcio lifted his serapé, exhibiting the wound in his right arm from which the blood was yet oozing.
Both Pepé and the Canadian rose hastily to their feet and stepped forward to examine the wound. Having done so, they immediately set about dressing it, which they effected with as much dexterity and despatch as might have been shown by practised surgeons; at the same time the rude physiognomy of each was marked by an expression of interest almost amounting to tenderness. While the Canadian kept bathing the wound with water from his canteen, Pepé proceeded into the woods in search of a peculiar plant noted for its healing properties. This plant was the oregano. Presently he returned, bringing with him several slices which he had cut from the succulent stem of the plant; the pulp of these, mashed between two stones, was placed over the wound, and then secured by Tiburcio’s own scarf of China crape wound several times around the arm; nothing more could be done than await the effect of the application.
“Now,” said the Canadian, “you will soon feel better. There is no danger of inflammation—nothing beats the oregano for preventing that, and you need not be afraid of fever. Meanwhile, if you feel inclined, there’s a bit of roast mutton and a glass of eau de vie at your service; after which you had best lie down by the fire and take some sleep—for I can see that you’re weary.”
“In truth,” replied Tiburcio, “I am fatigued. I thank you for your offer, but I do not feel inclined either to eat or drink; I have more need of sleep, and with your permission shall try and get some. One request I would make of you: that you will not permit me to sleep too long; there are reasons why I should soon be awake again.”
“Very well,” said Pepé; “we don’t want your reasons. If you wish us to watch the hacienda, I beg you will only say so, and you shall have two pair of good eyes at your service; therefore make your mind easy, and sleep without fear of any enemy coming upon you unawares.”
Tiburcio stretched himself upon the grass, and overcome by fatigue and the many violent emotions he had that day experienced, soon fell into a lethargic slumber.
For some time Bois-Rose sat regarding the sleeper in silence, but with an air of strange interest.
“What age do you think he is?” he at length inquired of his comrade.