“I come to arrange with you a very serious matter,” replied our youth, without extending his.
“You have me at your orders,” replied Luis, exchanging the friendly expression of his face for another more severe.
“Only we cannot do it here. Mount your horse and take your arms. I await you.”
And by the contraction of his features and the pallor of his countenance, Medina knew that Gonzalo had come on a warlike errand, and was not slow in divining what was the cause of his annoyance. Without replying a single word he entered the house and soon reappeared and mounted his horse, with a pistol at his belt and a sword at the saddle. “Here you have me,” he said to Gonzalo.
“Come,” replied Gonzalo, “let us go to the field.”
Together they took the street which most quickly would bring them to the end of the village, and went a considerable stretch outside the town. Leaving the road they went into the meadows and stopped at a little open space formed by four immense camichines, which, extending over the space, their broad, flat and immovable boughs projected a dense and heavy shadow around.
“I have brought you to this spot,” said Gonzalo, stopping his horse, “because it is retired and no one may see or hear us. It is unnecessary to enter into explanations; you know how gravely you have offended me, and in what way. That is sufficient. Now I desire that you shall give me satisfaction with arms in hand.”
“Although I am not valiant, I have some dignity and never will I yield before an enemy who challenges me,” answered Luis, tranquilly; “but I have one remark to make to you, which is, that my conscience does not reproach me with having done anything to offend you.”
“Yes, I was expecting that you would deny responsibility for your acts. Anything else was impossible.”
“Moderate your words. Do not let us pass to a serious occasion without some rational cause.”