Part 33 (1/2)
”Would he be coming here?” inquires Carmen, naively.
”I shouldn't be surprised; probably with a message from our young friends. It may be the man they recommended to me.”
”That's why somebody went ash.o.r.e in the little boat,” whispers Inez to her aunt. ”He's bringing us _billet.i.tas_. I was sure they wouldn't go away without leaving a last little word.”
Inez's speech imparts no information: for Carmen has been surmising in the same strain.
She replies by one of those proverbs, in which the Spanish tongue is so rich:
”_Silencio! hay Moros en la costa_,”--(Silence! there are Moors on the coast).
While this bit of by-play is being carried on, the sailor ascends the hill, and is seen entering at the road-gate. There can now be no uncertainty as to his calling. The blue jacket, broad s.h.i.+rt-collar, round-ribboned hat, and bell-bottomed trousers, are all the unmistakable toggery of a tar.
Advancing up the avenue in a rolling gait, with an occasional tack from side to side--that almost fetches him up among the manzanitas--he at length reaches the front of the house. There stopping, and looking up to the roof, he salutes those upon it by removing his hat giving a back-sc.r.a.pe with his foot, and a pluck at one of his brow-locks.
”_Que guieres V., senor_?”--(What is your business, sir?), asks the haciendado, speaking down to him.
Harry Blew--for it is he--replies by holding out a letter, at the same time saying:
”Your honour; I've brought this for the master o' the house.”
”I am he. Go in through that door you see below. I'll come down to you.”
Don Gregorio descends the _escalera_, and meeting the messenger in the inner court, receives the letter addressed to him.
Breaking it open, he reads:
”Estimable Sir,--Circ.u.mstances have arisen that take us away from San Francisco sooner than we expected. The corvette that came into port last night brought orders for the _Crusader_ to sail at once; though our destination is the same as already known to you--the Sandwich Islands. As the s.h.i.+p is about to weigh anchor, I have barely time to write a word for myself, and Mr Cadwallader. We think it proper to make known some circ.u.mstances which will, no doubt, cause you surprise, as they did ourselves. Yesterday morning we met at your house two gentlemen--as courtesy would then have required me to call them--by name Francisco de Lara and Faustino Calderon. We encountered them at a later hour of the day; when an occurrence took place, which absolved us from either thinking of them as gentlemen, or treating them as such. And still later, after leaving your hospitable roof, we, for the third time, came across the same two individuals, under circ.u.mstances showing them to be _professional gamblers_! In fact, we found them to be the proprietors of a monte bank in the notorious 'El Dorado;' one of them actually engaged in dealing the cards! A spirit of fun, with perhaps a spice of mischief, led me into the play, and betting largely, I succeeded in breaking their bank. After that, for a short while we lost sight of them. But as we were making our way to the pier, where our boat was to meet us, we had a fourth interview with these 'gentlemen;' who on this occasion appeared with two others in the character of _robbers_ and _a.s.sa.s.sins_! That they did not succeed in either robbing or murdering us, is due to the brave fellow who will bear this letter to you--the sailor of whom I spoke. He can give you all the particulars of the last, and latest, encounter with the versatile individuals, who claim acquaintance with you. You may rely on his truthfulness. I have no time to say more.
”Hoping to see you in Cadiz, please convey parting compliments to the senoritas--from the Senor Cadwallader and yours faithfully, Edward Crozier.”
The letter makes a painful impression on the mind of Don Gregorio. Not that he is much surprised at the information regarding De Lara and Calderon. He has heard sinister reports concerning them; of late so loudly spoken, that he had determined on forbidding them further intercourse with his family. That very day he has been displeased on learning of their ill-timed visit. And now he feels chagrin at something like a reproach conveyed by that expression in Crozier's letter, ”The versatile individuals who claim your acquaintance.” It hurts his hidalgo pride.
Thrusting the epistle into his pocket, he questions its bearer; taking him into his private room, as also into his confidence.
The sailor gives him a detailed account of the attempt at murder, so accidentally frustrated; afterwards making known other matters relating to himself, and how he has taken service on the Chilian s.h.i.+p--Don Gregorio inquiring particularly about this.
Meanwhile, the young ladies have descended from the azotea, and the ex-man-o'-war's man makes their acquaintance.
They a.s.sist in showing him hospitality, loading him with pretty presents, and knick-knacks to be carried on board the _Condor_, to which they know he now belongs.
As he is about to depart, they flutter around him, speaking pleasant words, as if they expected to get something in return--those _billet.i.tas_. For all, he takes departure, without leaving them a sc.r.a.p!
A pang of disappointment--almost chagrin--shoots through the soul of Carmen, as she sees him pa.s.sing out of sight. And similarly afflicted is Inez; both reflecting alike.
Still they have hope; there may be something enclosed for them in that letter they saw him holding up. It seemed large enough to contain two separate notes. And if not these, there should at least be a postscript with special reference to themselves.
Daughters of Eve, they are not long before approaching the subject, and drawing Don Gregorio.
Yes; there is something said about them in the letter. He communicates it: