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Updated: May 13, 2025
He understood that it was another kind of contest that was going to take place between the two, and arming himself with calmness, Dick Sand compelled himself to look Negoro right in the face, and decided not to honor him with a reply, no matter what he might say.
It was under the sycamore's shelter, hidden, as in a mysterious asylum, that a whole caravan the one whose arrival Harris had announced to Negoro had just halted. This numerous procession of natives, snatched from their villages by the trader Alvez's agents, were going to the Kazounde market.
Weldon; then, continuing, "what is Negoro doing?" she asked. "He is doing what Dingo is doing," replied Dick Sand. "He goes, he comes! After all, he is free here. I have no longer the right to control him. His service ended with the stranding of the Pilgrim."
It was evident that he saw or scented some native. And, in fact, it was no longer against Negoro, against its enemy on board the ship, that the dog had a grudge this time. At that moment a man turned the last plane of the cliff. He advanced prudently to the strand, and, by his familiar gestures, he sought to calm Dingo. They saw that he did not care to face the anger of the vigorous animal.
Who could have given such orders, if not Harris or Negoro? The halt was going to end. All, chiefs, porters, soldiers, slaves, were immediately on foot. Laden with their packs, several groups of captives were formed under the leadership of an overseer, who unfurled a banner of bright colors. The signal for departure was given.
"I am ready to appear before the Supreme Judge," replied Dick Sand, coldly, "and death will not make me afraid." "We shall see about that!" howled Negoro. "You count on help of some kind, perhaps help at Kazounde, where Alvez and I are all-powerful! You are a fool! You say to yourself, perhaps, that your companions are still there, that old Tom and the others. Undeceive yourself.
There, closely bound, was lying the young novice, almost entirely deprived of food for twenty-four hours, weakened by past misery, tortured by those bands that entered into his flesh; hardly able to turn himself, he was waiting for death, no matter how cruel it might be, as a limit to so many evils. However, at the sight of Negoro he shuddered from head to foot.
"He will come here," returned Negoro, "if I bring him a letter written by you, which will tell him your situation, which will describe me as a faithful servant, escaped from the hands of these savages." "My hand shall never write that letter!" Mrs. Weldon replied, in a still colder manner. "You refuse?" exclaimed Negoro. "I refuse!"
As for the trader, he might have looked a little less sordid than his attendant. He wore the dress of an old Turk the day after a carnival. He did not furnish a very high specimen of the factory chiefs who carry on the trade on a large scale. To Dick Sand's great disappointment, neither Harris nor Negoro appeared in the crowd that followed Alvez.
I wished to throw myself on that brutal The Arab chief appears, seizes my arm, and holds me till I find myself again in the caravan's last rank. Then, in his turn, he pronounces the name, "Negoro!" Negoro! It is then by the Portuguese's orders that he acts and treats me differently from my companions in misfortune? For what fate am I reserved? May 10th. To-day passed near two villages in flames.
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