"You are true, friend," he said, as he offered him his hand, "ever ready to act without observation or comment."
"I flatter myself I am; for is not friendship composed of self-denial and devotedness?"
"Yes; and that is why it is so rarely met with in this world."
"I pity those who are incapable of experiencing the feeling, for they deprive themselves of a great enjoyment. Friendship is the only real link that attaches men to each other."
"Egotism is only a variety of the species; it is friendship badly understood, and reduced to low proportions."
"Hang it! I did not fancy you were so strong in paradoxes. Did you learn these tricks of the tongue among the Indians?"
"The Indians are wise men, my master," the _vaquero_ answered with a shake of the head; "with them the true is true, and the false false, while in your cities you have so well succeeded in embroiling everything, that the cleverest man could not find his way, while the simple man soon loses the feeling of justice and injustice. Let me return to the prairies, my friend, my place is not among the paltry contests that disgrace this country, and make my heart ache with disgust and pity."
"I would willingly restore you your liberty, my boy, but I repeat that I have need of you, perhaps for three months longer."
"Perhaps you will find the period very short," he said, with a peculiar expression.
"We shall see; but I have not told you yet what I want of you."
"That is true, and I had better know, so that I may fulfil your intentions properly."
"Listen to me then: I shall be the more brief, because when the persons I am expecting arrive, I shall give you more detailed instructions."
"Two persons are going to join us here, a young man, and a young lady; the latter is doña Dolores de la Cruz, daughter of the owner of the hacienda del Arenal: she is sixteen years of age, and very beautiful; she is a gentle, pure, and simple girl."
"Very good, but that does not concern me, for you know I trouble myself but slightly about squaws."
"That is true, so I will not dwell on the point: doña Dolores is betrothed to don Ludovic, who will marry her immediately."
"Much good may it do him; and who is don Ludovic? Some Mexican, I suppose, stupid and proud, who prances like a canon's mule."