For some time they talked on indifferent subjects; at last Don Gregorio said:
"I often pass this way, but I never remember seeing this rancho before."
"I have only been here two months, till then I lived with my father over there," replied their host with a jerk of his head.
"Are you by chance one of the Vianas?" asked Don Gregorio.
"Just so. I am Venceslao Viana, at your service, Señor, and this is my wife. When I married, my father gave me some cows, and I have built this place for myself. We were married at the Guardia, for, as my father said to me, people of family should marry."
As the man said this he threw back his head proudly, and his wife smiled at her guests, showing more of her white teeth than ever. They both evidently thought that they had conferred great distinction upon themselves by marrying, as was in fact the case, for among the paisanos in those days marriage was a token of respectability and social standing.
"I call myself Gregorio Lopez," said Don Gregorio in reply, "and I congratulate you both."
"Many thanks, Señor. Don Gregorio of the Barrancas, is it not so?"
"Then we are in some sort relations," answered Venceslao.
"To me, no; to this one yes," replied Don Gregorio coldly, and looking at Marcelino. "I knew that Viana's land lay somewhere near here, but I did not know that it reached as far as this."
A brother of the second wife of Don Gregorio Lopez the elder, named Francisco Viana, had married a mulatta, and had by so doing lost caste with his own family, and had lived ever since in seclusion on his estancia, so that his existence was unknown to the younger branches of the family of Don Gregorio Lopez, and Marcelino looked curiously at Venceslao, wondering how he could in any way be a relation of his.
"I have seen you before," said Venceslao, as he returned his gaze.
"Have you? Where? I have not been so far as this since I was a boy," replied Marcelino.
"I escaped by a miracle, and came straight back to my father's house."
"Yes. I followed him right up to the English, but they confounded us with shot. Caramba! how the bullets went, phiz! phiz! I shall never forget it. I missed a stroke at one of them with my lance, and before I knew what had happened my horse reared and fell over with me, and caught my leg so that I could not get away. Dios! what moments those were! it appeared a century. Afterwards, when they were coming to finish me, there was a tall man, one of the city, who spoke to them in their own Castilian, so they let me go, and he gave me a horse, but I did not feel safe till I got back here. Dios mio! for days I did not know whether I was alive or dead. And you, where were you that day? You will excuse me the question."