curiosity. Though the gates of his estancia were never opened to any guest, he was welcomed by the first families at Carmen, whom he visited assiduously, and then to the great surprise of all, he disappeared for several months. The ladies had wasted their smiles and glances, the men their adroit questions to make Don Torribio speak. Don Antonio Valverde, to whom his post of being governor gave the right of being curious, had not failed to feel some alarm about the handsome stranger, but weary of losing his leisure in inquiries, he left the matter to time, which sooner or later rends asunder the densest veils.
Such was the man who was listening to Panchito in the brake, and all that was known about him.
"Enough!" he said passionately, interrupting the gaucho; "you are a dog, and the son of a dog."
"Señor!" said Panchito, drawing himself up.
"I am inclined to crush you, like the wretch you are."
"Threats to me!" the gaucho shouted, pale with rage, and drawing his knife.
Don Torribio clutched the fellow's wrist with his gloved hand, and twisted it so rudely, that he let the weapon fall with a cry of pain.
"On your knees, and ask pardon," the gentleman said, as he twisted Panchito to the ground.
"No; kill me sooner."
"Begone, villain; you are only a brute beast."
The gaucho rose tottering, his eyes were filled with blood, his lips were livid, and his whole body trembled. He picked up his knife, and approached Don Torribio, who waited for him with folded arms.
"Well, yes," he said; "I am a brute beast, but I love you, after all. Forgive me or kill me, but do not send me away."
"Begone!"
"Is that your last word?"
"Yes."
"To the demon, then."
And the gaucho, with a movement rapid as thought, raised his knife to stab himself.
"I forgive you," Don Torribio said, after checking Panchito's arm; "but if you wish to serve me, be dumb as a corpse."
The gaucho fell at his feet, and covered his hand with kisses, like a dog licking his master, who has chastised it. Corrocho had remained a motionless observer of the scene.
"What power does this strange man possess to be thus beloved?" muttered Blas Salazar, who was still concealed behind his tree.
CHAPTER III.
DON TORRIBIO CARVAJAL
After a short silence, Don Torribio continued —
"I know that you are devoted to me, and I have perfect confidence in you; but you are a drunkard, Panchito, and drink is a bad counsellor."
"I will drink no more," the gaucho answered.
Don Torribio smiled.
"Drink, but without destroying reason. In drunkenness people utter words, as you did just now, which cannot be recalled, and are more deadly than a dagger. It is not your master who is now speaking, but the friend. Can I count on both of you?"
"Yes," the gaucho said.
"I am going away; but you must not leave the colony, but be ready for anything. Before all, carefully watch the house of Don Valentine Cardoso, both inside and out. If anything extraordinary happens to him or his daughter Doña Concha, you will immediately light two fires, one on the cliff of the Urubús, the other on that of San Xavier, and within a few hours you will hear from me. Do you promise to execute promptly and devotedly any order of mine, however extraordinary it may appear to you?"
"We swear it."
"That is well. One word in conclusion. Connect yourselves with as many gauchos as you can; try, without exciting suspicion, which always sleeps with one eye open, to collect a band of determined fellows. By the by, distrust Patito: he is a traitor."
"Must he be killed?" Corrocho asked.
"Perhaps it would be prudent, but you would have to get rid of him cleverly."
The two gauchos exchanged a side glance, but Don Torribio pretended not to see it.
"Do you want money?"
"No, master."
"No matter; take this."
He threw to Corrocho a long silk purse, through the meshes of which a great number of gold ounces glittered.
"My horse, Panchito."
The gaucho entered the wood, and almost immediately re-appeared, holding the bridle of a magnificent charger, upon whose back Don Torribio leaped.
"Farewell," he said to them; "prudence and fidelity; any indiscretion would cost your life."
And, after giving the gauchos a friendly nod, he dug his spurs into the horse's sides, and went off in the direction of Carmen, while Corrocho and Panchito went back toward Población del Sur. As soon as they had gone some distance, the bushes in a corner of the brake were shaken, and a face pale with fear peeped out. This head belonged to Patito, who, with a pistol in one hand, and a knife in the other, drew himself up, and looked around with great agitation, while muttering in a low voice —
"¡Canario! kill me cleverly. We shall see, we shall see. ¡Santa Virgen del Pilar! What demons! Well, listening is a good thing."
"It is the only way to hear," someone replied a mocking voice.
"Who's there?" Patito shouted, as he leaped on one side.
"A friend!" Blas Salazar answered, as he came from behind the maple and joined the gaucho, whose hand he shook.
"Ah, ah, capataz, you are welcome. You were listening too, then?"
"I should think so. I took advantage of the opportunity to instruct myself about Don Torribio."
"Well?"
"This caballero appears to me a precious scoundrel, but, with the aid of Heaven, we will ruin his dark schemes."
"So be it!"
"And, in the first place, what do you intend to do?"
"On my word I do not know. There's a buzzing in my ears, 'kill me cleverly.' Corrocho and Panchito are certainly the most hideous villains of the Pampa."
"¡Caramba! I have known them a long time, and at present they alarm me but slightly."
"But me?"
"Nonsense; you are not dead yet."
"I am not much better."
"What, are you afraid? You, the boldest panther hunter of my acquaintance?"
"A panther is, after all, only a panther, and you can get the better of it with a bullet; but the two fellows Don Torribio has let loose on me are demons."
"That is true; so let us proceed to the most important point. Don Valentine Cardoso, whose capataz I am, is my foster
