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Updated: May 2, 2025
'He that is dead pays all his debts, writes the poet who more than any man knew the best and the worst of the human heart, but Lazuraque did not agree with him. Fernando's body was stripped bare and hung for four days from the battlements of the city, where, silent and uncomplaining as in life, it was a prey to every insult the people could heap on it.
The sound frenzied the sheep and they leaped forward. Lambs, trailing behind, called dolefully to the plunging ewes that trampled each other in their terror. Again the cowboy glanced back. No one was in sight. He wondered, for an instant, what had become of Fernando, for he knew it was Fernando's herd. He shortened rein and spurred his pony, making him rear.
But now Don Fernando's friends, as well as the curate and the barber, who had been present all the while, not forgetting the worthy Sancho Panza, ran forward and gathered round Don Fernando, entreating him to have regard for the tears of Dorothea, and not suffer her reasonable hopes to be disappointed, since, as they firmly believed, what she said was but the truth; and bidding him observe that it was not, as it might seem, by accident, but by a special disposition of Providence that they had all met in a place where no one could have expected a meeting.
I feared that, as he had now come into our neighbourhood, if Kanimapo was rightly informed, he would attack Don Fernando's house, from which he would obtain a richer booty than from ours or Castle Concannan. I mentioned my fears to Tim.
Black Fernando's hell and the white waterfall were places that I had never heard of. I thought of all the missionary hymns that I had ever listened to afloat and ashore, but the lines that the pair had chanted were not familiar.
"There's old Fernando's 'dobe down the track under them pepper trees. He's a friend of mine. He ain't to home to-day. Mebby you'd like to set down there and wait for your friend." "My friend?" "Why, ain't you waitin' for anybody? You ain't goin' to tackle that bug-huntin' trip alone, be you? It's dangerous out there for a tenderfoot.
The small modicum of vanity which slumbered in Don Fernando's bosom quickly took fire, and deeming it the height of discretion not to overlook any thing that might be of deep interest to so great a visitor, he pleasantly added, that a portrait of himself would soon enhance the splendors of the gallery.
The scenery revived many recollections of Fernando's early experience. They passed the point where he had fought his duel, and he could not repress a smile at the ludicrous termination of what had so nearly proved a serious affair. Terrence did most of the talking, for Fernando was busy with his own reflections.
"It's the same," he thought, as he wandered away to the beach. "What strange providence has brought me here?" Fernando's regrets were in a moment changed to rejoicing. He was glad he had quarrelled with the lieutenant and had been driven away to Mariana. He went to the tavern and informed Sukey of his discovery and said: "I am going to contrive in some way to speak with her again."
He felt of himself reminiscently while watching Chance nose about the camp. Presently the dog came and, squatting on his haunches, faced his master with the query, "What next?" scintillating in his glowing eyes. "I dunno," replied Sundown. "You see, pardner, this here's Fernando's camp all right.
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