“No doubt of that,” muttered Cuchillo to himself.
“The Señor Arechiza,” continued the envoy, “started for Tubac shortly after receiving your letter. It was my duty to accompany him, but he ordered me to proceed in advance of him with these commands: ‘In the little village of Huerfano you will find a man, by name Cuchillo; you shall say to him that the proposal he makes to me deserves serious attention; and that since the place he has designated as a rendezvous is on the way to Tubac, I will see him on my journey.’ This instruction was given by Don Estevan an hour or so before his departure, but although I have ridden a little faster to execute his orders, he cannot be far behind me.”
“Good! Señor Baraja, good!” exclaimed Cuchillo, evidently pleased with the communication just made, “and if the business which I have with Don Estevan be satisfactorily concluded—which I am in hopes it will be—you are likely to have me for a comrade in this distant expedition. But,” continued he, suddenly changing the subject, “you will, no doubt, be astonished that I have given Don Estevan a rendezvous in such a singular place as this?”
“No,” coolly replied Baraja, “you may have reasons for being partial to solitude. Who does not love it at times?”
A most gracious smile playing upon the countenance of Cuchillo, denoted that his new acquaintance had correctly divined the truth.
“Precisely,” he replied, “the ill-behaviour of a friend towards me, and the malevolent hostility of the alcalde of Arispe have caused me to seek this tranquil retreat. That is just why I have established my headquarters in an abandoned village, where there is not a soul to keep company with.”
“Señor Don Pedro,” replied Baraja, “I have already formed too good an opinion of you not to believe that the fault is entirely upon the side of the alcalde, and especially on the part of your friend.”
“I thank you, Señor Baraja, for you good opinion,” returned Cuchillo, at the same time taking from the cinders a piece of the meat, half burnt, half raw, and munching it down with the most perfect indifference; “I thank you sincerely, and when I tell you the circumstances you may judge for yourself.”
“I shall be glad to hear them,” said the other, easing himself down into a horizontal position; “after a good repast, there is nothing I so much enjoy as a good story.”
After saying this, and lighting his cigarette, Baraja turned upon the broad of his back, and with his eyes fixed upon the blue sky, appeared to enjoy a perfect beatitude.