Explore "The Red Track" by Gustave Aimard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The man who now entered the hall of mirrors was dressed like the riders who promenade at the Bucareli, and gallop at carriage doors -- that is to say, in trousers with silk stripes down the sides, and a broad-brimmed hat decorated with a double gold string and tassels.
He walked gracefully up to Don Sebastian, still holding his hat in his right hand, bowed to him with that exquisite grace of which the Mexicans alone seem to have the privilege, and thrusting his hand into his side, he said, with an accent of cutting sarcasm, and in a harsh, metallic voice --