“I am sure your investigations, Julio, will strengthen our case materially. Now, sir, I beg of you to continue your absorbing study, and I will remain here in meditation until Señor Gonzales grants me an interview. One cannot give too much time to thought, so do me the favor not to detain yourself longer.”
Julio Murillo shook hands with the distinguished visitor, and with much the same smile he had on entering the room, he left to resume his scientific investigations.
The large, handsome, princely looking visitor walked the richly covered floor thoroughly wrapped in pleasant and highly scientific meditations.
He was not long kept waiting for his host’s welcome.
He stooped to pick up a nosegay which dropped from his coat, and when he raised his head, Guillermo Gonzales stood before him, by the side of his writing-table, with outstretched hands.
The partition separating the two rooms had disappeared as if by magic, and they stood alone in one grand room.
A giant was not at hand, nor neither were the powers of a magician employed to make the partition disappear so quickly. It was constructed on the same plan as sliding-doors, but it moved with more rapidity and much less noise.
The two distinguished men greeted each other with the embrace and handshake characteristic of their ancient Mexican ancestors.
In the privacy of his study Guillermo Gonzales always addressed the friend of his youth,—and his friend during the other lives which they had lived generations ago in the Republic of Mexico, ay, in the same city where they now lived—the capital of Chihuahua—in the most familiar schoolboy fashion.
“Miguey, my boy, this is indeed a most pleasant surprise. You returned when?”