This seemed quite a matter of course to Rojas. But what the devil was it to him who the seconds were!
“Pirovani has only one second so far. That is myself,” Moreno continued. “I came to ask you to help us out, don Rojas. You know how to act in this sort of affair. I wish you’d serve with me as a second for our Italian friend.”
But the rancher protested vehemently.
“Drop all this fool business, man! Why should I get mixed up in the squabbles of these people? They’re all my friends ... and anyway, I’m too old to have anything to do with this sort of thing. I don’t care to make that kind of splurge, not at my age....”
But Moreno was not to be put off so easily, and several minutes of heated argument followed. Finally the rancher gave some signs of abandoning his first position. He was more won over by what seemed to him the mysterious nature of this duel than by any of Moreno’s pleas. As a second he might learn some curious and interesting things....
“Well, then, I’ll do what you want. What the devil will this ink-spiller be after me for next?”
Then he smiled slyly, slapping Moreno on the leg, and asked him, lowering his voice,
“And why do they want to kill one another? About a woman eh?... Sure as I breathe, that marquesa has something to do with it ... she seems to drive all the men around her crazy....”
Moreno assumed a mysterious expression, at the same time raising his finger to his lips to impress Rojas with the need for caution.
“Careful, don Carlos! Remember that the marqués will be acting with us as a second in this duel.... Perhaps, even, as an expert in this sort of thing he will manage the whole affair.”