CHAPTER XV.
The Trial of my Comrade—He wounds Zolca—The Death of Paul—We destroy the Mongol Junk.
THE captain left for the Abrolhos the next morning, and now a stern duty remained to be undertaken.
Paul had been kept in confinement and closely watched, only his wife being permitted to see him. Namoa had been intrusted with the charge of him, and there was no danger of his escaping, for the Quadrucos had only to look around at their ruined homes and ravaged valley to renew afresh their determination to wreak vengeance on the traitor.
If I could have saved Paul I would. This I solemnly aver, but it was not to be; his deeds had been too black.
I was determined, however, that he should have a trial such as was the custom of civilized nations, and persuaded Zolca that it would make more impression on the people.
Namoa and five other men of standing were then selected, and Paul was warned that the next morning he would be tried for his life.
He asked permission to see me, and, of course, the request was granted. That evening I went to him. He told his wife to leave the house, and we were alone. I sat down by him, and, truth to tell, my heart was heavier than if I had had to face the executioner in the morning. I took my guilty comrade’s hand, and we sat for some time in silence.
“I am sorry that they did not capture Captain Sharpe,” he said at last.
To this there was no answer to be made, for I thought differently.
“Diedrich,” Paul went on, “I did not ask to see you to upbraid you, but you could have saved me if you would.”