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Updated: June 3, 2025
It seems that he is celebrated for his bravery and the Spaniards have marked him for special attention. Papa and mama are dreadfully disturbed, and not only because of him; for if he is discovered, all of us, yes, little Narcisa, will be made to pay to a horrible degree, I can tell you." There was, apparently, nothing unusual in the situation at the Escobars' when Charles called in the evening.
At the Aguila de Oro, spinning the paddle of a molinillo, and individual chocolate mill, Andrés informed Charles that Vincente was home. "He has told me everything," Andrés Escobar continued with pride. "We are now more than Escobars brother Cubans. He has been both shot and sabred and he has a malaria. But nearly all his friends are dead.
Charles nodded, entirely friendly, and she turned away, so abruptly that her hair swung out and momentarily hid her profile. He forgot her immediately, for he had overheard, half understood, an allusion to the Escobars' elder son. With a growing impatience he interrogated Andrés, and the latter nodded a reassurance.
They had been, it seemed to Charles, rather ridiculous with her; it was hard on Narcisa to have been thrust, at her age, into such a serious affair. The Escobars, and particularly Vincente, took their responsibility a little too ponderously.
What, in reality, he was trying to do was to see himself consecutively, logically. In this, he recognized, his mind was different from the Escobars', from the blind fervor of the many Cuban patriots he knew.
The April temporale lay in an even heat over the city, and the end of the Paseo Isabel was crowded by the quitrins of women, the caleseros, in their brilliant livery, sleeping in whatever shade offered. The Escobars had a private bath, but Andrés preferred the larger baño publico, where it was possible to swim, and there Charles found him.
Hillyard should know too much of him." Sir Charles laughed. "The Mario Escobars are always suspicious. Let us see!" he said in a low voice, and leaning across the table, he shot a question sharply at the Spaniard. "And what were you doing under the palm trees, in front of the sea at Alicante, Señor Escobar?" Mario Escobar sat back. The challenge had startled him.
"Vincente!" he exclaimed awkwardly. "Was that the other brother? But he is dead." "Not yet," she replied. "It is planned for tonight, after dinner, when he is smoking in the little upper salon." Agitated, at a loss for further protest, he rose. He must go at once to the Escobars, warn them. "You will admit now that I have been of use," La Clavel was standing beside him.
"We are all worried about Vincente," Andrés proceeded, as they were descending the vault-like stairs; "there is a shadow on him like bad luck. But it may be no more than the fever. Our mother thinks he needs only her love and enough wine jelly." They were again in the drawing-room with the Escobars; and Charles momentarily resumed the seat he had left beside Narcisa.
On Escobar landing at this place, he found the greyhound left by Grijalva on the shore, which was accordingly taken on board; but when the rest of the fleet arrived, as Escobars ship had been forced out to sea by a strong gale from the south, she was not to be found.
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