"You know the saying, 'A miss is as good as a mile,'" I replied, as Malgares took my loaded pistol and carefully lowered the trigger. "The question now is to agree on an account for His Excellency that will clear my noble friend and second, and place all the blame upon me, where it belongs."
"Nada!" rejoined Malgares. "He shall know the exact truth."
"Leave the matter to me," said Father Rocus. "You know my standing with the Governor-General. I engage to prevent any unpleasant consequences."
"But—the—body?" murmured Walker, glancing askance at Medina's huddled corpse.
"I will take it in my coach," said Malgares, without hesitation. "You will ride his horse, and lend your own to Señor Robinson."
We each offered to take his place in the grewsome part he had chosen. But all that he would accept of us was our assistance in stanching the wound and carrying the body to the coach. Walker then set off ahead to notify Medina's servants, while Father Rocus and I returned to the city by a roundabout road.
The moment we were alone I asked my companion a dozen and one questions about Alisanda.
He shook his head to them all. "There is nothing to tell, Juan, other than she is holding out bravely against their persuasions and commands. The point now is to convince Salcedo that the death of Medina has rid him of one rival, and that he can free himself of another by sending you away with your indomitable friend."
"But if it is to leave her behind—!" I cried.
"We shall see about that in due course," he replied. "One thing at a time. Rome was not built in a day. Now ride on, and leave me, my son. We approach streets where we are both known. Adios!"