"Hum!" the mayoral murmured to himself, biting, without thinking of doing so, the end of his extinguished cigarette, "what will be the end of all this? Don Ramón is not a man to pardon, he will not compromise his honour. Will he abandon his son to the hands of justice! Oh no! but, in that case what will he do?" The worthy mayoral had arrived at this point in his reflections, when Don Inigo Albaceyte and Don Ramón appeared in the patio. The countenances of the two men were stern; that of the hacendero, in particular, was dark as night. "Nô Eusebio," Don Ramón said in a sharp tone, "have a horse saddled, and prepare an escort of four men to conduct this cavalier to Hermosillo." The mayoral bowed respectfully, and immediately gave the necessary orders. "I thank you a thousand times," continued Don Ramón, addressing the judge; "you have saved the honour of my house." "Do not be so grateful, señor," Don Inigo replied; "I swear to you that when I left the city yesterday, I had no intention of making myself agreeable to you." The hacendero only replied by a gesture. "Put yourself in my place; I am criminal judge above everything; a man is murdered--a worthless fellow, I admit--but a man, although of the worst kind; the assassin is known, he traverses the city at full gallop, in open daylight, in the sight of everybody, with incredible effrontery. What could I do?--set off in pursuit of him. I did not hesitate." "That is true," Don Ramón murmured, holding down his head. "And evil have been the consequences to me. The scoundrels who accompanied me abandoned me, like cowards, in the height of the storm, and took shelter I know not where; and then, to crown my troubles, two jaguars, magnificent animals, by the bye, rushed in pursuit of me; they pressed me so hard that I came and fell at your door like a mass. It is true I killed one of them, but the other was very nearly snapping me up, when you came to my assistance. Could I, after that, arrest the son of the man who had saved my life at the peril of his own? That would have been acting with the blackest ingratitude." "Thanks, once more." "No thanks; we are quits, that is all. I say nothing of some thousands of piastres you have given me; they will serve to stop the mouths of my lynxes. Only, let me beg of you, Don Ramón, keep a sharp eye upon your son; if he should fall a second time into my hands, I don't know how I could save him." "Be at ease, in that respect, Don Inigo; my son will never fall into your hands again." "The hacendero pronounced these words in so solemn and melancholy a tone, that the judge started at hearing them, and turned round saying,-- "Take care what you are about to do!" "Oh, fear nothing," replied Don Ramón; "only, as I am not willing that my son should mount a scaffold, and drag my name in the mud, I must endeavour to prevent him." At that moment the horse was led out, and the juez de letras mounted.