“Yes! yes! Mother; every command has been obeyed. I have learned what people are talking of, and, too, I have brought some printed talk from among the Yankees,” cried the mulatto quickly, anxious to propitiate the crone.
“Fool, you know I can’t make out the Yankee printed talk,” snarled the sunken lips.
“I can though, Mother Sybella; I lived among the Yankees many years. I will tell you what they talk of concerning our country,” said the man rising from his knees.
“I will listen here in the sun’s rays; I am cold. Sit there at my feet,” mumbled the hag, crouching down on the rock that had been occupied by Manuel.
“Begin,” she commanded fiercely, fixing her keen gaze upon the yellow face below her.
“Dictator Dupree is unable to obtain money to pay the army; the Yankees and English will not make a loan unless concessions be made to the whites.”
“What says Dupree?” muttered the old woman.
“Dupree fears an insurrection of the people if he make concessions to the whites, and an outbreak by the army if he fail to pay the arrears due to it. He is distracted and knows not which move to make,” answered the yellow man at the hag’s feet.
“Dupree is a coward! Let him come to me and see how quickly his difficulties disappear! The army is worthless, the people powerful,” cried Sybella.