The Buccaneer Farmer - BestLightNovel.com
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"I don't know that my character is worth your study," Kit replied carelessly.
"You are of some importance, senor. Although I have admitted that you are modest, it is strange you do not know."
"Why should I know?" Kit asked.
Francisca studied him over her ebony fan, which hid half her face and emphasized the curious glow of her black eyes. "I do not think you are as dull as you pretend. Have you not been experimented on recently?"
"I think I have," said Kit. "After all, a gold onza is not a great temptation. I found another--a spray of heliotrope--harder to resist."
"But you did resist!" she replied in a quiet voice.
"Yes," said Kit, fixing his eyes on her face. "I am an adventurer like the rest, but it is rather a shabby thing to try to gain an advantage in a battle with a woman. Besides, as I'm not clever, I might have failed."
With a languid movement of her head Francisca looked round and Kit imagined she saw the others were too far off to hear. Then she made him a half mocking bow.
"We need not quarrel, senor, and I will give you a hint. Since you are incorruptible, this town is not the place for you. Strangers from the North sometimes get fever. And I would not like you to suffer because you are honest, and have chosen the losing side."
"Ah," said Kit, "you think our side will lose?"
Francisca moved her fan, as if to indicate Galdar, who stood in the moonlight near the fountain. He was smiling urbanely and a number of men and women had gathered about him. Kit knew they were people of importance. At the end of the patio, the president stood alone in the advancing gloom.
"You see!" she said. "Well, I am engaged for the next dance. You have my leave to go."
Kit left her and sat down in a quiet spot. On the whole, he thought the president's antagonists had been foolish when they tried to use the girl; she was, so to speak, too good, and perhaps too proud, for the part they expected her to play. This, however, was not important; he imagined she had meant well when she gave him a hint, although the hint was not worth much, because Kit thought Adam saw how things were going. Then he reflected with some amus.e.m.e.nt that he need not bother much about deceiving the enemy, since Galdar's friends would not suspect that Buccaneer Askew had knowingly chosen the losing side.
Presently Kit joined Adam, who sat near a lamp. His face was damp and looked pinched.
"Let's go and get a drink," he said. "I'm thirsty; got a dose of intermittent fever again."
Some tables behind the pillars were laid out with wine and fruit, and Adam beckoned a mulatto waiter.
"_Tinto and siphon_. Bring some ice."
"There is no _siphon_, senor. We have sherry, vermouth, and some very good anisado."
"You have plenty _siphon_" Adam declared. "Go and look."
The waiter went away and Adam frowned. "I can't stand for their scented liquors; I want a long, cool drink."
After a few minutes, the waiter came back with a large gla.s.s, in which a lump of ice floated in red wine and mineral water. Adam, sending him away, remarked: "That's a stupid fellow. I wanted to mix the stuff myself."
He drank thirstily and put down the gla.s.s.
"Tastes bitter; too much resin in the wine, or perhaps it's imagination."
He lifted the gla.s.s but stopped and threw the rest of the liquor on the pavement. "Reckon I've had enough. About the meanest drink I've struck.
Give me a cigar. The taste stops in my mouth."
Kit gave him a cigar, but after a few minutes he threw it away.
"I don't feel much better and think I'll go to my room. You might come along; the stairs are steep."
He got up awkwardly and leaned upon the table, breathing rather hard while big drops of sweat started from his forehead. "This confounded ague grips me tight. Don't know when I've felt so shaky. Better give me your arm."
They started, and keeping in the shadow, reached the outside stairs without exciting much curiosity, but Kit felt disturbed. Adam went up slowly, stopping now and then, and stumbled across the balcony at the top. Bright moonlight shone into the bare room, where a small lamp burned, and Kit saw that Adam's face was wet.
"Leave me alone," he said. "You can come back by and by and see how I'm getting on."
Kit did not want to go, but gave way when Adam insisted. He met the president soon afterwards.
"Where is Don Adam?" the latter asked.
Kit told him and added that his uncle had seemed to get worse after drinking some wine.
"Ah," said Alvarez thoughtfully. "Fresh lime-juice is better when one is feverish. Did he drink anything else?"
"No," said Kit. "The waiter wanted to bring some anisado, but he insisted on the wine."
Alvarez took him to the table where the refreshments were served and clapped his hands. A waiter came up, but Kit said, "That is not the boy."
"Where are your companions?" the president asked.
"One is was.h.i.+ng the gla.s.ses, senor. I do not know where the other has gone."
Alvarez opened a door and Kit saw a man putting small _copitas_ into a pail.
"It was another fellow who brought the wine," he said, and Alvarez beckoned the waiter.
"Call the mayor-domo."
A man dressed in plain black clothes came in, and Alvarez asked: "How many of these fellows did you send to serve the wine?"
"Two, senor. It was enough."
"Three came. It will be your business to find the third," said the president sternly and turned to Kit. "What was the fellow like?"
Kit described the waiter and Alvarez said to the mayor-domo, "You will be held accountable if the man has got away. Send Doctor Martin to the bottom of the stairs."
The mayor-domo went away and Alvarez knitted his brows.
"Galdar's friends are bold, but I had not expected this. However, Don Adam's drinking wine may have balked them and Martin is a good doctor."
Kit asked no questions, for he could trust the president and thought there was no time to lose. They crossed the patio and found a man waiting in the shadow at the bottom of the steps. Alvarez said a word or two and they went up. When they entered the room Adam glanced up from the bed.
"I see you have brought the doctor," he said with an effort.
"In this country, one takes precautions," Alvarez replied. "You look ill, my friend."
"I'd have looked worse if I'd drunk anisado," Adam remarked. "Anyhow, you had better light out and let Senor Martin get to work."