“It’s a bad situation.”
“Ca, man! There’s nothing to be frightened about.”
“You can do as you like, but I’m not going out until I’m well; nor will I write for La Víbora any more.”
“Very well. Do as you wish.”
“I’ve got to live.”
“Psh! I don’t see why,” replied Quentin contemptuously. Then he added, “See here, my lad, if this business scares you, take up sewing on a machine. Perhaps you’ll earn more.”... And leaving the poet, Quentin returned to the Casino. He was the man of the hour; he related his adventure again and again, and in order that the same thing might not be repeated that night, a group of eight or ten of his friends accompanied him to his house.
CHAPTER XXIII
PURSUIT AND ESCAPE
QUENTIN was worried, and in spite of his two pistols and the sword-cane that he carried, he feared that the first chance they got, they would set a trap for him and leave him in the same condition as they had left Cornejo.
He was very mistrustful of María Lucena, because she was beginning to hate him and was capable of doing him almost any ill turn.
Some two weeks after the nocturnal attack, Quentin went to the Café del Recreo. As he was learning to be very cautious, before entering he looked through a window and saw María Lucena talking to an elegantly-dressed gentleman. He waited a moment, and when a waiter went by, he said to him: