Upon this point also there were two different opinions.
“Not a single one,” remarked a voice.
“Yes; there was one, and but one,” continued another.
The major-domo rubbed his hands with an air of satisfaction.
“Good!” said he, “then at least one is saved, provided this gentleman, who declares that all the gold-seekers are not dead, be rightly informed, as I hope he is.”
“Do you not think,” said the last who had spoken, “that the man of the red handkerchief may not be one of those whose departure we witnessed six months ago? I would swear to it by the cross and Gospel.”
“No! not so!” cried another, “that man never set foot in the Presidio before the other day.”
“In any case,” interrupted a third, “the man of the red handkerchief has doubtless something of interest in store for Don Augustin Peña, since he has so often inquired about him. With these gentlemen, he will probably be more communicative than with us.”
“That will be just what we desire,” resumed the major-domo.
“You must know, then, and I may without indiscretion inform you,” continued he, “that Don Augustin Peña, whom God preserve, was the intimate friend of Señor Arechiza, and that he has had no news of him for six months past, which would be natural enough if he has been massacred by the Indians with all the rest. But my master is anxious for his return, that he may marry his daughter, Doña Rosarita, a beautiful and charming person, to the Senator Don Vicente Tragaduros. Months have elapsed, and since the hacienda is not on the main road from Arispe to Tubac, and that we cannot gain information from any one upon the subject of this deplorable expedition, Don Augustin determined upon sending us here to inquire about it. When he shall have established the fact that Don Estevan’s return is impossible—and as young girls do not readily meet with Senators in the heart of the desert—nor do the latter often find there girls whose marriage portion is worth two hundred thousand piastres—”