A monotonous voice also--the
Comandante's evidently--was raised in a thin, high recitative.
The Padre passed hastily through the guard-room, and opened the door
of the passage leading to the garden slope. Here an extraordinary group
presented itself to his astonished eyes. In the shadow of a palm-tree,
Mrs. Markham, seated on her Saratoga trunk as on a throne, was gazing
blandly down upon the earnest features of the Commander, who, at her
feet, guitar in hand, was evidently repeating some musical composition.
His subaltern sat near him, divided in admiration of his chief and the
guest. Miss Keene, at a little distance, aided by the secretary,
was holding an animated conversation with a short, stout, Sancho
Panza-looking man, whom the Padre recognized as the doctor of Todos
Santos.
At the apparition of the reverend Father, the Commander started,
the subaltern stared, and even the secretary and the doctor looked
discomposed.
"I am decidedly de trop this morning," soliloquized the ecclesiastic;
but Miss Keene cut short his reflection by running to him frankly, with
outstretched hand.
"I am so glad that you have come," she said, with a youthful,
unrestrained earnestness that was as convincing as it was fascinating,
"for you will help me to persuade this gentleman that poor Captain
Bunker is suffering more from excitement of mind than body, and that
bleeding him is more than folly.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168