"Mother," said he in a feeble voice, "and you, Don Pedro, do me the favour to leave me alone with this caballero for a short time. I have a few words to say to him in private."
"To me, señor?" asked Don Torribio, in a tone so haughty it sounded like disdain.
"To yourself, Señor Don Torribio Quiroga," replied the wounded man, whose voice grew stronger under the excitement of his feelings.
"You are very weak, my son, for a conversation with any one," said Manuela.
"Perhaps, my friend," said Don Pedro, "it would be more prudent to defer it for a few days."
"No," was the reply; "it must be today--must be this instant."
"Just as you please, headstrong!" said Don Pedro. "We will go into the anteroom, where we shall be within call. Come, Manuela."
Don Estevan kept his eyes fixed on the door till it closed behind them; then he turned to Don Torribio, who was still standing in the centre of the room.
"Come nearer, señor, that you may be better able to hear what I have to say to you."
"I am listening to you, señor; but, at the same time, must beg you not to delay your communication."
"You shall have it. I warn you, that I tore the mask from one of the bandits who attacked us, and recognised him."
"I am at a loss to understand," said Don Torribio.
"Oh! You do not understand, señor! It is the answer I expected. I suppose, likewise, you do not know the name of the person who accompanied me, and on whom the _vaqueros_ fell with such indescribable fury?"
"I am perfectly ignorant as to who he was," said Don Torribio, quite unmoved.
"Better and better! Learn, then, that it was Don Fernando Carril who was killed." And he cast a look pregnant with irony at the man standing beside him.
"Don Fernando Carril!--killed!" exclaimed the latter, stupefied.
"Listen once more to this," he continued in threatening tones. "If Don Fernando is not brought to this hacienda within twenty-four hours, I will reveal to Don Pedro and his daughter the name of his assassin. I think you understand me this time?" And, overcome with grief, he sank half fainting on his couch.
Don Torribio remained a moment, annihilated with the words he had heard; but, immediately recovering his presence of mind, he quickly left the hacienda, and galloped into the plains, muttering as he rode: