And both gentlemen shook hands with the consul and departed.
"I think," said Ishmael, as they took their seats in the carriage, "that we should take Katie immediately back to her owner. I understand from her that he is a man in the humbler walks of life, and therefore I think that he might be willing to close with us for a liberal advance upon the price paid the smuggler."
"Do so, if you please, Ishmael; I trust entirely to your discretion," answered the judge.
"Katie," said Ishmael to the old woman, who had never left the carriage, "can you direct us the way to find the man who bought you?"
"Not to save my precious life, couldn't I, honey. Because you see, I nebber can t'ink o' de barbareous names dey has to de streets in dis outlan'ish place. But I knows where I is well 'nough. An' I knows where it is—de shop, I mean. And so if you'll put me up alongside ob de driver I can point him which way to go an' where to stop," said Katie.
This proposition was agreed to. The carriage was stopped and Katie was let out and enthroned upon the seat beside the coachman, a Spaniard, whom she proceeded to direct more by signs and gestures than by words.
After a very circuitous route through the city they turned into a narrow street and stopped before a house partly confectionery and partly tobacco shop.
They alighted and went in, and found the proprietor doing duty behind his counter.
The study of the Spanish language had been one of the few recreations Ishmael had allowed himself in his self-denying youth. He had afterwards improved his opportunities by speaking the language with such Spaniards as he met in society in Washington. He therefore now addressed the tobacconist in that tongue, and proceeded to explain the business that brought himself and his friend to the shop.
The tobacconist, who was the ordinary, small, lean, yellow specimen of the middle class of Cubans, courteously invited the "senors" into the back parlor, where they all seated themselves and entered more fully into the subject, Ishmael acting as interpreter between the judge and the tobacconist, whose name they discovered to be Marinello.