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Updated: September 17, 2024
"She zay she know dthe Señorita vidth dthe pretty eyes would like dthe shaills, and dthat vas vhy she follow her in dthe church, but Señorita ees easy frighten. Señor must take gude care off her and nefer leaf her." Mrs. Steele smiles indulgently and draws out her watch. "It's time we were going," she says. "The San Miguel's lights will be all out, I'm afraid."
Guillermo!" with an inspiration I draw the white face down to mine "forgive me for doubting you; you will keep your word," and I kiss him between the pain-contracted brows. "Oh, Blanca, Blanca, you vill kill me!" Is it a tear that drops on my face? I put my arm in his and draw him up the dark street, whispering some incoherent prayer. "Blanca, I cannot! I am not a man dthat I gif you up!"
He draws me back on the platform, and without asking my pardon or looking the least bit penitent, he opens the door for me to go inside. Mrs. Steele looks away from her window as we take our former seats. "How deliciously cool it's grown," she says. "What makes you so white, Blanche?" "Vas it not for dthat she ees call Blanca?" "What is it, child? Are you faint?"
"How can people endure it?" I marvel, wiping away great drops of moisture. "See dthat big house all come down? Dthat ees eardthquake," explains my escort. "How dreadful! Look at the thatch roofs of those queer little huts it makes me think of peaked Robinson Crusoe hats. Just see how they're pulled far down over the sun-burnt wall as if to shade their eyes from the scorching sun." "Robeen Crusa?"
"Dthat ees more your rôle, for if you pairmeet me to listen to your so beautiful Eenglish, I must learn much. But you will let me spik to you a leedle in Frainch, mademoiselle? Dthere air zome dthings I cannot say in Eenglish." We stop at the vessel's side, and in a glance across to Mrs. Steele I see her looking with wide-eyed amusement and a dash of concern at my companion.
I vill hope to teach Señorita zome day dthat Peruvians air no liars." "Ah, Baron," I say deprecatingly, "I never meant that, you didn't understand me I " "No," he interrupts "I know dthat often I understand you not and zometimes it ees my so bad Eenglish dthat ees to blame.
I am speechless with fright, till the dreadful apparition stretches out a skinny arm and with some strange words lays a claw-like hand on my bare wrist. I shrink back, uttering a little muffled cry of horror. The big Peruvian comes hurriedly towards me from the other side of the church. "Vas dthat you, Señorita?" he says.
"No, thank you." "Oh, I dthought you vould like." "Where is it?" "Yust ofer dthere, dthree steps dthat round house." "I'd better see it perhaps while I have time," I think, and I walk towards the circular building indicated. Baron de Bach keeps at my side. He tries the door shakes it but it is evidently locked; he leans down and looks through the keyhole.
"No," I say, "I'll go." "She vould zay dthat if she die. You stay here, Señorita; Madame Steele be not long." The idea flits across my mind he has some reason of his own for not wanting me to go; but I've no notion of being left alone. "No, I'll go with you, Mrs. Steele."
I know only dthat you American vomans haf yust one fault: you air how you zay? spoil vidth too great power; you raispect no von's judgment, you need zome strong man to rule." "To rule!" I echo, scornfully; "that may do for Peruvians, but our women are neither slaves nor imbeciles." "No," he retorts, "but zome zay your men air a leedle of bodth!"
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