Part 30 (1/2)

”Come,” said Pedro, suddenly, ”I will introduce you.”

There was a strange gleam in Pedro's eyes, and unwonted excitement in his manner, as he pushed his way through the crowd.

Lawrence followed in some surprise.

Suddenly he heard a sharp, strange, indescribable shout. It was the voice of Pedro, who was only a few yards in advance of him. Our hero sprang forward and beheld a sight which filled him with surprise. One of the girls who leaned on the colonel's arm was a beautiful blonde of about fifteen, with flowing golden hair and rich brown eyes. She stood as if petrified, with the brown eyes gazing intensely at Pedro, who also stood transfixed returning the gaze with compound interest.

”Mariquita!” he murmured, holding out both hands.

”Yes,” said the delighted colonel, ”I felt quite sure she was your child, but said nothing about--”

”Father!” burst from the girl, as, with a cry of joy, she bounded into Pedro's arms.

”Just so,” continued the colonel, ”I didn't like to mention my suspicions for fear of raising false hopes, and thought the surest way would be to bring them face to face. Wasn't it so, Manuela?”

Lawrence turned as if he had received an electric shock. He had been so absorbed in the scene we have just described, that he had not looked at the girl who leaned on the colonel's other arm. He now turned and beheld--not the Indian girl of his travels, but a fair-skinned, dark-eyed senhorina. Yet as he gazed, the blood seemed to rush to his brain, for these were the eyes of Manuela, and the slightly open little mouth was hers--the straight Grecian nose, and the graceful figure. It seemed as if his wildest dream were realised, and that Manuela had become white!

He clasped his hands and gazed, as Pedro had just done, with such intensity that the sportsman, observing the rudeness, said to his friend--

”Aw--don't you think it would be as well to--aw--kick the fellow out of the room?”

”Hallo! what's this?” exclaimed the old colonel, turning sharply on Lawrence with a magnificent frown.

It was quite evident that _he_, as well as Pedro and our hero, had also received a most unexpected surprise, for, not only did the youth continue to stand gazing, with clasped hands, but the young lady did not seem in the least offended. On the contrary, she looked up at the colonel with an incomprehensible expression and a bewitching smile, as she said, in excellent English--

”He is not rude, father, only astonished. Let me introduce my friend and preserver, Mr Lawrence Armstrong.”

But Lawrence heard not, and cared nothing for the introduction.

”It _is_ Manuela!” he exclaimed, with a hesitating step forward, and a look of unbelief still lingering in his eyes.

She held out her little _white_ hand!

He grasped it. The _same_ hand certainly! There could be no doubt about that.

”'Pon my honour--aw--the most interesting _tableau vivant_ I ever--aw-- saw!”

”Come, come,” cried the colonel, whose pleased smile had given place to unimaginable astonishment. ”You--you should have prepared me for this, Manuela. I--I'm obliged to you, senhor, of course, for--for saving my daughter; but--come, follow me!”

He turned and left the room with rapid strides, and would have dragged Manuela after him, if that young lady had not been endued with a pace-- neat, active, and what is sometimes called ”tripping,”--which kept her easily alongside of the ancient man of war.

Lawrence followed mechanically.

Pedro, with an arm round Mariquita's waist, brought up the rear.

As they vanished through the doorway the people gave them a hearty cheer, and resumed dancing.

The sportsman found himself so much overcome that he could only e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e, ”aw!” But presently he recovered so far as to say, ”Let's go an' have a ciga',” and he also melted from the scene.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.