"I am of your family, and so is my sister Mauricia; the stain is upon you as well as upon us. I have come to appeal to you, as the head of the family; it appears that the honour of the family is to you of small value, I am a man of another stamp, and will know how to take my measures. I will know what measures to take."
"Talk no more in that way, Venceslao," said Evaña; "you forget the respect you owe to an old man."
"It is not alone in respect that he is wanting," said Don Gregorio; "he has used words which require explanation, and I require an explicit explanation before he leaves this room."
"I have spoken clearly enough, and seek to hide nothing," said Venceslao.
"You have spoken of consequences to my son," said Don Gregorio.
"I have spoken; I know my duty, and shall do it."
"You apprehend danger?" said Evaña to Don Gregorio, taking him aside. "Dismiss all fear of that. Those who talk much never do anything. Leave it all to me; as I told you, I will go to-morrow to the Guardia Ranchos, and will see Gregorio myself, we shall arrange the matter, but if you interfere with this man it will occasion a scandal. You might write to Gregorio, and I will carry the letter for you."
"No, I will not write, I am too angry to write now, but tell my son that he must submit to any demand they may make upon him, and that I will not see him again until he has completely severed all connection between himself and this family."
"I will tell him what you say, word for word," said Evaña.
Two days after this, Don Carlos Evaña and Colonel Don Gregorio Lopez sat talking together in the plainly-furnished sala of a house in the frontier town of Ranchos, which is situated about ten leagues to the north-east of the Guardia Chascomus. For more than an hour they had talked together, and it was now near sundown. The Colonel sat leaning back in an arm-chair, with his legs stretched out before him, his hat, loosely set on, completely concealed his forehead, his eyes being just visible under the wide flap. He was smoking, and was apparently more intent upon watching the white rings of smoke, which he now and then succeeded in puffing into the air, than upon the conversation of the Senor Evaña. Everything in his demeanour and attitude denoted careless ease, yet now and then there was a hurried, anxious glance in his eye, which showed that the ease was more apparent than real. Don Carlos Evaña was not at all at his ease, and made no attempt to appear so. He had laid aside his cloak and hat, and walked up and down the room, nervously rolling a cigar between his fingers.