Some of the inhabitants of the Presidency knew the rich proprietor very well by repute, but few amongst them—or, one might rather say, none of them—were so thoroughly acquainted with Don Augustin Peña, as to be capable of answering the questions of the stranger.
Everybody in Tubac remembered the gold-seekers’ expedition which had set out six months previously; and according to some vague replies given by the mysterious personage, it was suspected that he knew more upon the matter than he chose to reveal. He had, he pretended, encountered in the deserts of the Apache country, a troop commanded by Don Estevan in a very critical position, and he had reason for believing that they must have fought a last and terrible engagement with the Indians, from the result of which he augured no good.
The evening before the arrival of the two travellers, he had inquired what direction he ought to take to reach Don Augustin’s house; and, above all, he had testified a great wish to learn whether Doña Rosarita was still unmarried.
The unknown always wore on his head a red checkered handkerchief, the folds of which hung down over his eyes; and in consequence of this head-dress he always went by the name of the “man with the red kerchief.”
This being explained, let us now return to our two travellers.
The new-comers—whose arrival created some sensation—on entering the presidency, directed their steps towards one of the houses of the village, at the door of which sat a man, who was soothing his leisure hours by playing upon the guitar.
One of the cavaliers, addressing him, said—
“Santas tardes! my master; will you afford hospitality to two strangers for a day and a night?”
The musician rose and bowed courteously.
“Pray dismount, noble cavaliers,” he answered, “this dwelling is at your service as long as you please to remain.”