In conversation like this, we soon left the town behind us and got into the country, if the desert and arid plains that we crossed at full gallop could be so termed. The heat was stifling, and a deep silence lay around. All at once a horse's hoof broke the stillness, and we were joined by a cavalier, in whom I could hardly have recognized Pepito Rechifla. The ruffian had attired himself with some degree of elegance; he wore a blue manga lined with yellow cotton, and his horse's equipments were of a character thoroughly Mexican. He saluted us with an air at once courtly and patronizing. "You will pardon me," he said, "Señor Licentiate, if I take the liberty of traveling in your company; but, aware of your intention to take a short ride to-day, I thought you would not be the worse of having an additional companion. This road does not bear a very good character;" and, casting an expressive look at the arm which the lawyer carried in a sling, he added, "it is not always prudent to run into dangers at a distance from home. I am, however, pretty sure that we shall not need to draw upon any body to-day."
Having finished this last sentence with a drawling affectedness, Pepito whispered into the ear of the licentiate some words which I could not make out. I only remarked that he pointed out to Don Tadeo a group of hillocks on our left, over which hovered a flock of great black vultures. Without replying to Pepito, the licentiate stopped his horse a moment, and looked in a different direction. His face had a painful expression in it. He then signed to us to continue our route, spurred his horse vigorously, and a few minutes after we clattered through the streets of the village in which my new property was situated.
