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Updated: May 1, 2025
Some one in the shadows turned and walked quickly away to another fire-glow with its ring of Rembrandt figures and faces, and none save Valencia knew that it was Manuel gone to tell his master what had been said. Valencia smiled while he smoked. Presently José was listening unwillingly to Manuel's spite-tinged version of the talk at the San Vincente camp.
As if by divine revelation the situation lay bare before him, the whole Machiavelian scheme as conceived by Manuel. Sancho Mendez was to be sacrificed! Even as he stood there speechless, the plan began to work toward its well-calculated end. Manuel's friends started to harangue the crowd.
One of the seamen had been detailed to fill Manuel's place, who, with his dinner all prepared, reminded the Captain that it was awaiting him. He sat down, took dinner, and left to answer the consul's call. Arriving at the office, he found the consul had left for his hotel, and would not return until four o'clock.
We conclude the bills by giving Manuel's as it stands upon the books: "Contrary to law." British brig "Janson," Capt. Thompson. For Manuel Pereira, Colored Seaman. 1852. To Sheriff of Charleston District. May 15th. To Arrest, $2; Register, $2, $4.00" "Recog., $1.31; Constable, $1, 2.31" "Commitment and Discharge, 1.00" "52 Days' Maintenance of Manuel Pereira, at 30 cents per day, 15.60
Her movements, however, were not totally unobserved, for Captain Fleetwood, who had called at the house of Colonel Gauntlett, early in the morning, in the vain hope of seeing Ada, was returning in a disconsolate mood along the ramparts, and meditating in what way his duty should direct him to proceed, when his eye fell on the speronara, hove-to directly below him, Manuel's boat just touching her side.
"And what about finding out whether the Inglez was there, dead or alive?" asked some. I was sure, now, that they would not come down in a body. It would expose them to the danger of being caught in the cavern by the peons. There was no time for a thorough search, they argued. For the first time that morning I heard Manuel's voice, "Stand aside." He came down to the very brink.
He judged, from Manuel's manner, that his disguise had not been guessed. Elated with this supposed success, he commenced to tell glibly the tale he had prepared and studied out the day before. "I wanted to give you a warning," he said. The Cuban's gaze deepened. "Warning? What kind of a warning? From whom?" "Cesar Leborge," answered Stuart.
No sooner was this work off her hands than another engaged her. With a purpose prompted may-be by her angel, certainly by no human word, and unshared by any human intelligence, Elizabeth began to make a sketch of the island as seen from Manuel's prison-window. She made the sketch from memory, correcting it by observation when occasion called her to the prisoner's room.
If the 'accident' at which he hinted did really happen to Armadale, I stood in no need of Manuel's intervention to give me the intelligence of it. An easy search through the obituary columns of the English papers would tell me the news with the great additional advantage that the papers might be relied on, in such a matter as this, to tell the truth.
"Live, live," I whispered into her ear, and would hear a sigh so faint, so feeble, that it swayed all my soul with pity and fear, "Yes, Juan."... And I would go away to watch for the dawn from the mouth of the cave, and curse the stars that would not fade. Manuel's voice always steadied me.
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