“Ten rather than one,” replied I; “anything that is in my power. Do I not owe you my life?”
“You’re a gentleman, I see, and a Christian. You must come with me to the squire—the Alcalde.”
“To the Alcalde, man? What must I go there for?”
“You’ll see and hear when you get there; I’ve something to tell him—something for his own ear.”
He drew a deep breath, and remained silent for a short time, gazing anxiously on all sides of him.
“Something,” whispered he, “that nobody else must hear.”
“But there’s Johnny there. Why not take him?”
“Johnny!” cried he, with a scornful laugh; “Johnny! who’s ten times worse than I am, bad as I be; and bad I am to be sure, but yet open and above board, always till this time; but Johnny! he’d sell his own mother. He’s a cowardly, sneakin’, treacherous hound, is Johnny.”
It was unnecessary to tell me this, for Johnny’s character was written plainly enough upon his countenance.
“But why do you want me to go to the Alcalde?”