"Gold!" burst from every lip.
"Those thousand acres contain gold sufficient to change the destinies of the world," said Gaspar Manuel, calmly, as he fixed his dazzling eyes upon the face of Godlike.—"The contest for the possession of this untold wealth lies between the Order of Jesus and the Van Huyden estate."
"Have not the Mexican Government appointed a Commissioner to decide upon their respective claims?" As he asked the question, Dr. Martin Fulmer, (who, as Ezekiel Bogart, had seen Gaspar Manuel dressed as a man of the world) gazed in surprise upon that costume which indicated the Jesuit. There was suspicion as well as surprise in his gaze.
"That Commissioner is one of the rulers of the Jesuits,—an especial Legate of the Roman Pope," continued Martin, surveying Gaspar Manuel with a look of deepening suspicion. "His name is——"
"Never mind his name," interrupted Gaspar Manuel,—"Let it satisfy you that I am a Jesuit, perchance one of the rulers of that Order. And I am the Legate of whom you speak."
"You!" echoed Martin Fulmer, and his ejaculation was repeated by the others.
"I am that Commissioner," replied Gaspar Manuel, "and my decision has been made. Allow me a few moments for reflection, and I will make it known to you. While you converse with those gentlemen, I will warm myself at yonder fire, for the climate is hard to bear, after the bland atmosphere of Havana."
With a wave of the hand and a slight inclination of the head, he retired from the table and bent his steps toward the fire-place. Seating himself in an arm-chair, he now gazed into the flame with his flashing eyes, and now,—over his shoulder,—surveyed the banquet-hall. Then taking tablets and pencil from a side-pocket, he seemed absorbed in the mazes of a profound arithmetical calculation; but every now and then he raised his eyes, and with that dazzling glance, took in every detail of the banquet-hall.
Meanwhile, the group around the table had not yet recovered from the impression, produced by his presence.
"A singular man,—eh?" quoth Yorke.