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Updated: May 3, 2025
John Adams had looked at his simple interrogator with surprise and not a little perplexity. "Well, to tell you the honest truth," said he, "I can't say that I do know much about Him, more shame to me; an' some talks I've had lately with Mr Young have made me see that I know even less than I thought I did. But we'll ask Mr Young to explain these matters to us when we return home. As it happens.
"Perfectly ready," said the Creole, decidedly in one of his insane fits; for he immediately skipped behind his lordship, and, jumping upon the locker, stood ready to invert a glass of water upon his nicely-powdered head, containing at least three gallons, this glass being a large globe, containing several curious fish, which swung, attached to a beam, directly over my interrogator.
"Do Peigans hunt with war-arrows?" asked Cameron, pointing to their weapons. This question seemed to perplex them, for they saw that their interrogator knew the difference between a war and a hunting arrow the former being barbed in order to render its extraction from the wound difficult, while the head of the latter is round and can be drawn out of game that has been killed, and used again.
"What is that you call the West-Port?" proceeded the interrogator.
It was, however, the decisive and ready manner in which he answered his interrogator that was so characteristic of the man, and which so appealed to the meeting as to elicit a hearty volley of cheers. Mr. Chamberlain was never easily disconcerted, nor was he ever a touchy, over-sensitive man.
He'd expected death if the mission failed, but not like this not being tortured for information while two of his people lay badly wounded in a Traiti military hospital. He knew his interrogator was right; everyone had a breaking point. He could only hope they'd kill him before he came so close to his own that he'd have to activate the conditioning. He preferred to meet death knowing who he was.
The ventero, a greasy, ill-conditioned Valencian, rubbed his eyes, muttered a coarse oath, and seemed half disposed, instead of replying, to pick a quarrel with his interrogator; but a glance at the athletic figure and resolute countenance of the latter, dissipated the inclination, and he answered by a surly affirmative. "And his daughter also?" continued the stranger in a lower tone. "Doña Rita?
The young warrior regarded his interrogator for a moment with a steady and deliberating eye; then raising his finger upward, he answered with dignity "The Wahcondah pours the rain from his clouds; when he speaks, he shakes the lulls; and the fire, which scorches the trees, is the anger of his eye; but he fashioned his children with care and thought. What he has thus made, never alters!"
Dalla stepped forward, taking the flashlight from the interrogator with one hand and lifting the woman's head with the other. She flashed the light quickly in the woman's eyes. "You will grieve no more for your child," she said. "Already, you are forgetting what happened at the Wizard Traders' camp, and remembering only that your child is safe from harm.
A gleam of almost fiendish ferocity passed like a lightning-flash across the beautiful face of my fair interrogator at the mention of the French; but it disappeared again in an instant, and, turning to Benedetto, she asked with just the slightest ring of harshness in her voice, "Is the Padre in camp?" "He is not," was the reply.
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