LITMIR.BIZ

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he murmured, "The man must be dead enough by this time, or if not his soul has turned to ashes in his heart. Let's go and look. Nevertheless, as prudence is the mother of safety, let us be prudent."

      And in accordance with this reasoning, he drew from his garter the sharp-pointed knife which every Mexican carries for the purpose of cutting the thong if an enemy happens to cast the lasso round his neck. Having tried the spring of the blade against a stone, and convinced himself that the point was not broken, he made up his mind, at last, to approach the body, still lying motionless on the spot where it had fallen. But in the American deserts there is an axiom the justice of which is acknowledged by all. It is this: That the shortest road from one point to another is a curve. Our friend took good care to put it in practice on this occasion. Instead of advancing straight to the object of his visit, he made a long circuit, drawing nearer little by little, stealing along softly, stopping at intervals to examine the body, and ready to fly at the slightest movement he might see, and with his knife ready to strike.

      But these precautions were useless; the corpse preserved the immobility of a statue, and our man stopped almost within reach without discovering a single thing to betray an atom of life in the unhappy wretch stretched upon the ground before him.

      The murderer crossed his arms over his chest, and contemplated the body, whose face was turned to the ground.

      "By my faith, he is dead indeed. It is a pity; for he was a formidable fellow. I should never have dared to attack him face to face. But a man must stick to his word. I had been paid; I was bound to fulfil my engagement. Curious! I see no blood! Pooh! It is a case of internal bleeding. So much the better for him, for his sufferings will have been less. However, to make doubly sure, I'll plant my knife between his two shoulders: in that way I shall be sure of my bird, although there is no danger of his coming to life again. You see, one must not deceive those who pay us; a man must stick to his word."

      After this soliloquy he knelt down, bent over the body, supporting himself by one hand on its shoulders, and lifted his knife; but suddenly, by a movement of unexampled rapidity, the supposed corpse rose with a bound like a jaguar, and oversetting the stupefied assassin, seized him by the throat, pinned him to the earth, planted his knee on his chest, and deprived him of his knife before his brains could render an account of what was happening.

      "Hulloa, compadre!" (comrade) said the cavalier in a jeering tone; "One moment, if you please, ¡cuerpo de Cristo!"

      All this passed in much less time than we have taken to write it.

      However, sudden and unexpected as the attack had been, the other was too much accustomed to strange vicissitudes in somewhat similar situations not to recover his presence of mind almost immediately.

      "Well, comrade," resumed the cavalier, "what have you got to say to all this?"

      "I?" replied the other, with a sneer; "¡Caray! I say the game has been well played."

      "Then it is one you are acquainted with?"

      "A little," was the modest reply.

      "I have been a little sharper than you."

      "Yes, sharper; yet I certainly thought I had killed you. Curious," he continued, as if talking to himself, "the others were right; it is I who have been a fool. I will take a silver ball next time; it is surer."

      "What are you saying?"

      "Nothing."

      "Pardon me, you did say something."

      "Are you very anxious to know?"

      "Apparently, since I have asked the question."

      "Very well. I said I would take a silver bullet next time."

      "What for?"

      "Why, to kill you."

      "To kill me? Go to; you are a fool! Do you fancy I will let you escape?"

      "I do not fancy anything of the kind, the more so as you could not do anything worse."

      "Because you would kill me?"

      "By Heavens! Yes, as soon as possible."

      "Then you hate me?"

      "I? Not the least in the world."

      "Well, then, if not, what is your motive?"

      "Confound it! A man must stick to his word."

      The cavalier cast a long look upon him, shaking his head the while with a thoughtful air.

      "H'm," said he, at last, "promise me not to attempt to escape if I leave you free for a time."

      "I promise, with so much the more pleasure, since I am obliged to confess that I find myself in a most fatiguing posture, and am very anxious to change it."

      "Rise," said the cavalier, helping him up.

      The other did not wait for the mandate to be repeated: in an instant he was on his legs.

      "Ah," he replied, with a grunt of satisfaction, "liberty is a blessing!"

      "Is it not? Now shall we talk a little?"

      "I desire nothing better, caballero. I can only be the gainer by your conversation," replied the other, bowing, with an insinuating smile.

      The two enemies placed themselves side by side, as if nothing extraordinary had happened between them.

      This is one of the distinctive traits of Mexican character: murder amongst these people has grown so thoroughly into a habit, that it never astonishes anyone; and it often happens that the man just escaped falling a victim to an ambuscade, does not scruple to press the hand extended by his would-be assassin, foreseeing that someday or other he too will be called on to play in his turn the part of murderer.

      In the present circumstances it was certainly not this consideration which induced the cavalier to act as he was doing. He had a powerful motive, with which we shall become acquainted presently; for, in spite of his feigned indifference, it was only with a sentiment of lively disgust that he seated himself beside the bandit.

      As to the latter, we feel ourselves bound in justice to state that he had only one feeling of regret – the shame of having missed his blow; but he promised himself, in petto, to take his revenge as soon as possible, and this time to take such sure precautions that he must succeed.

      "What are you thinking of?" demanded the cavalier, all of a sudden.

      "I? On my honour, nothing," was the ingenuous reply.

      "You would deceive me. I know what you are thinking of at this very moment."

      "Oh, as for that, permit me to tell you – "

      "You were thinking of killing me," said the cavalier, interrupting him abruptly.

      The other returned no answer; he contented himself with muttering between his teeth —

      "What a devil! He reads the most hidden thoughts. One is not safe beside him."

      "Will you answer honestly, and frankly, the questions I am about to put to you?" resumed the cavalier, after a time.

      "Yes; as well as lies in my power."

      "That is to say, just so far as your interest does not lead you to lie."

      "Confound it, señor, no one likes to make war upon oneself! No one ought to force me to speak ill of myself."

      "You are right. Who are you?"

      "Señor," replied the other, raising himself proudly, "I have the honour to be a Mexican, My mother was an Opata Indian; my father a caballero (gentleman) of Guadalupe."

      "Very well; but I learn nothing from this about yourself."

      "Alas, señor!" was the reply, given in that whining tone the Mexicans know so well how to adopt, "I have been unfortunate."

      "Oh, you have met with misfortunes! Well, pardon me once more. You have forgotten to mention your name."

      "It is a very obscure one, señor; but since you desire to know it, here it is: I am called Tonillo el Zapote – at your service, señor."

      "Thanks,

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