' Why, that was six weeks ago, and
here we have the Comandante suborning one Marcia, a dragoon, to abduct
Mrs. Markham--by Jove, my old friend!--and Dona Leonor--our beauty, was
she not? Yes, here it is: in black and white. Read it, if you like,--and
pardon me for one moment, while I receive this unlucky messenger."
Left to himself, Hurlstone barely glanced at the memorandum, which
seemed to be the rough minutes of some society. He believed Perkins; but
was it possible that the Padre could be ignorant of the designs of his
fellow-councilors? And if he were not--if he had long before been in
complicity with them for the removal of Eleanor, might he not also have
duped him, Hurlstone, and sent him on this mission as a mere blind;
and--more infamously--perhaps even thus decoyed him on board the wrong
ship? No--it was impossible! His honest blood quickly flew to his cheek
at that momentary disloyal suspicion.
Nevertheless, the Senor's bland revelations filled him with vague
uneasiness. SHE was safe with her brother now; but what if he and
the other Americans were engaged in this ridiculous conspiracy, this
pot-house rebellion that Father Esteban had spoken of, and which he had
always treated with such contempt? It seemed strange that Perkins had
said nothing of the arrival of the relieving party from the Gulf, and
its probable effect on the malcontents.
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