“Well, you’re lucky to be let off,” remarked the guard.
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Quentin.
“Pacheco has been about these nights.”
Don Paco began to tremble like a leaf.
“Well, we must go and bleed that sick man,” said Quentin. “Adiós, Señores.”
“Good night.”
They went around the wall, and suddenly Don Paco came to a determined halt.
“No; I’m not going!” he exclaimed.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“It is very imprudent for us to go and see Pacheco,” the old man stammered. “We shall discredit the cause.”