"Yes; for certain private reasons I must remain some time here."
"I have no intention, be assured, señor, to interfere in your private affairs. So you remain here?"
"Very good. Have you among your peons a devoted man on whom you can count as on yourself?"
"Cascaras! I should think so. I have Blas Vasquez."
"Would you be good enough to tell me who this Blas is, as I have not the honour of his acquaintance?"
"He is my capataz, and I can trust to him as to myself in matters of danger."
"Excellent! All is going on famously, then."
"I really cannot make you out," the count said.
"I have been trying to do so for the last half hour."
"Your capataz, to whom you will give your instructions, will put himself at the head of his peons within an hour, and ostensibly take the road to Guaymas; but, as soon as he has gone two or three leagues to a point we shall settle on, he will halt. The rest will be the business of myself and friends."
"Oh! I understand your plan now. The peons hidden by you will attack the Indians in the rear so soon as the action has commenced between and them us."
"But the Apaches? Do you believe they will allow a troop of white men to retire without harassing them?"
"The Indians are too shrewd to oppose them. What good would it do to attack a body of men who have no baggage? The fight would not profit them, but cause their position to be discovered. No, no, be easy, caballero, they will not stir: they have too great an interest in remaining invisible."
"The Indians certainly saw me come in this direction; they know I am here. If I went out with them it would betray all. I shall go away alone as I came, and that immediately."
"The plan is so simple and well arranged that it must succeed. Receive our thanks, sir, and be kind enough to tell us your name, that we may know the man to whom we are indebted for so great a service."
"I join my entreaties, caballero, to those of my friend, Don Gaëtano, in order to induce you to reveal the name of a man whose memory will be eternally engraved on our hearts."
Don Louis hesitated, though unable to account to himself for the reason that made him do so. He felt a repugnance to give up his incognito as respected the count. The two men, however, pressed him so politely, that having no serious reason to offer for the maintenance of his incognito, he allowed himself to be vanquished by their entreaties, and consented to give his name.