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"Really, Trent I " "Don't irritate me; I'm in an ill humour for anything of that sort. You stole it! I can see why now! Have you got it still?" The Jew shrugged his shoulders. "Yes." "Hand it over." Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket and after searching through it for several moments produced an envelope.
The young ladies had announced their intention of sitting in the fly until they were allowed speech with their late host; to which he had replied that they were welcome to sit there until doomsday so long as they remained outside his gates. Mr. Da Souza lingered for a moment behind and laid his finger upon his nose. "It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially.
It was Da Souza who did most of the talking. Trent indeed had the appearance of a man only indirectly interested in the proceedings. "You see, my dear sir," Da Souza was saying, "this little concession of yours is, after all, a very risky business. These niggers have absolutely no sense honour. Do I not know it alas to my cost?" Trent listened in contemptuous silence.
So that he ruined Wellington it mattered nothing to Antonio de Souza that he should ruin himself and his own country at the same time. He was like some blinded, ferocious and unreasoning beast, ready, even eager, to sacrifice its own life so that in dying it can destroy its enemy and slake its blood-thirst.
Otherwise there would be considerable evidence that Samoval was a spy caught in the act and dealt with out of hand as he deserved." "How? Count Samoval a spy?" "In the French interest," answered the colonel without emotion, "acting upon the instructions of the Souza faction, whose tool he had become." And Colonel Grant proceeded to relate precisely what he knew of Samoval.
Came presently the bottles in a basket not one, as Souza had said, but three; and when the first was done Butler reflected that since O'Rourke and the cattle were already well upon the road there need no longer be any hurry about his own departure.
I never was over-scrupulous in those old days, Da Souza, you know that, and I have a fancy that when I find myself on African soil again I may find something of the old man in me yet. So look out, my friend, I've no mind to be trifled with, and, mark me if harm comes to that old man, it will be your life for his, as I'm a living man. You were afraid of me once, Da Souza.
"What do you want here, Da Souza?" he asked fiercely. Da Souza held up the palms of his hands. "I was strolling about," he said, "and I saw you through the trees. I did not know that you were so pleasantly engaged," he added, with a wave of his hat to the girl, "or I would not have intruded." Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into the garden beyond.
"Have a drink?" he asked. Da Souza shook his head. "The less we drink in this country," he said, "the better. I guess out here, spirits come next to poison. I'll smoke with you, if you have a cigar handy." Trent drew a handful of cigars from his pocket. "They're beastly," he said, "but it's a beastly country. I'll be glad to turn my back on it."
The convenient term quadroon, for instance, instead of "four annas in the rupee," is quite unknown; the consequence is that every one from Anna Maria de Souza, the "Portuguese" cook, a nobleman on whose cheek the best shoe-blacking would leave a white mark, to pretty Miss Fitzalan Courtney, of the Bombay Fencibles, who is as white as an Italian princess is called an "Eurasian."
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