"Your lordship will honor me by dealing them," said he, with redoubled gravity.
I shuddered, and took the pack with a hand not at all steady. Not to prolong my absurd position, I determined that the game be decided in three alburs.[1] Five minutes would then settle the question. I put down two cards from the pack. Cecilio chose one, I took the other; then, after laying down half a dozen cards in succession, I won the first albur. Not a frown crossed Cecilio's face; and, for my part, I thought that fortune was going to befriend me for once in my life, but I lost the second throw. The third albur remained, which would decide the affair.
While thus engaged, we had not perceived two horsemen who were advancing toward us. I did not see them, for my part, till they were almost at my side. The sound of their voices caused me to raise my head, and at a single glance I saw in one of the new-comers a perfect specimen of the Jarocho.[2] He wore in all its purity the peculiar costume of this class of men, a straw hat with a broad brim turned up behind, a fine linen shirt with cambric frills, without any vest above it, a pair of blue cotton velvet breeches open at the knee, and falling in a point to the middle of his leg. In a belt of Chinese crape of a scarlet color hung a straight sword (machete}, without guard or sheath, the sharp and glittering blade of which sparkled in the sun. His feet, which were bare, were held in the wooden stirrup only by the tips of his toes. This Jarocho, his head inclined indolently upon one shoulder, sat his horse in the attitude peculiar to peo-
