"_Una burla, senor_! No matter; you are welcome." "No jest, I assure you. Our first exchange of speech was under your own roof." "_Caspita_! You confound me." "'Tis true, I did not go inside--only just over the doorstep. There we met and parted--both a little unmannerly. For the first I was to blame. The last, I think, you ought to share with me. By your abrupt closing of the door, you gave me no chance of showing politeness; else I should have stayed to thank you for doing, what you say I have just done for you. I intended to seek an opportunity some day. It seems I have found it without seeking." "_Santissima Virgen_! you, then, are the gentleman--" "Who on a certain night so unceremoniously made entrance into the house of Don Francisco Moreno, in the Callecito de los Pajaros; who went in head-foremost, and no doubt would have been carried out feet foremost, but for the fortune that gave him such a generous host. Ah! captain Moreno," I continued, in the ardour of my gratitude grasping the young soldier's hand, "I said we were quits. Far, far from it; you owe me perhaps your life. To you I am indebted for mine; and--and much more." "_Por Dios, caballero_! you continue to mystify me. What more?" Under the dominion of a sweet excitement, I was on the point of confessing my _amourette_ with Mercedes, and telling him how he had interrupted it--in short, telling him all. No longer rivals, but fellow-suitors for two fair sisters, we were journeying along the same road. A common motive--each having a different object--instead of estranging, ought rather to unite us? And yet there was a doubt. Something counselled me to reticence. My secret remained unspoken; not even mention being made of the Calle del Obispo. "Oh!" I answered, taming down my tone of enthusiasm, "Much more depended on my life. Had I lost it--" "Had you lost it," interrupted the young Mexican, relieving me from the necessity of further explanation, "it would have been a sad misfortune for me: since this night I should have lost mine. Five minutes more, and these footpads would have overpowered me. As for my having saved _your_ life, that is scarcely correct. Your own comrades did it. But for their timely arrival, we might not have been able to withstand the assault of the angry _patriotas_; who were led by a man of no common kind." "So much the greater reason for my gratitude to you." "Well, you have amply acquitted the debt. But for your interference here--the more generous that you did not know for whom it was exerted--I might now be lying in the place of that red-hatted, red-handed wretch; who has been alike a traitor to his country and his God!" The last words were pronounced with a scornful emphasis, as if the speaker's patriotism had become fired at the sight of the renegade robber. "But, caballero!" he continued, changing to a more tranquil tone, "you say we have also met at the _monte_ table. Lately?"