“Speak,” he commanded, but the crouching figure shook her head.
“Speak,” he said again, whereon another voice, not that of Benita, answered in another tongue:
“I hear; but I do not understand your language.”
“Great Heaven!” said Meyer, “it is Portuguese,” and for a while the terror of the thing struck him dumb, for he was aware that Benita knew no Portuguese. He knew it, however, who had lived at Lorenço Marquez.
“Who are you?” he asked in that tongue.
“I am Benita da Ferreira. I am the daughter of the Captain da Ferreira and of his wife, the lady Christinha, who stand by you now. Turn, and you will see them.”
Jacob started and looked about him uneasily.
“What did she say? I did not catch it all,” asked Mr. Clifford.
He translated her words.
“But this is black magic,” exclaimed the old man. “Benita knows no Portuguese, so how comes she to speak it?”