“How about Goncalves—he might be so sore at me that he’ll try and whoop up things a bit, huh?”
“General Ceara’s long been provoked with him, Hal,” said Felice, unconsciously using the young man’s Christian name too. “He’ll give your complaints just consideration.”
“As you say, Felice,” Hal countered, smiling. “I’m to tell him then what greedy eyes the Brazil-nut has cast on your gold hills, huh? And it goes without saying, that I’ll tell him word for word about last night.”
“Of course—don’t forget that important part. General Ceara is too much of a patriot not to see that Goncalves is not a man for the Cause.”
“I agree with you, Felice,” Hal said whimsically. “He’d be the cause of any Cause busting up.”
They talked over the question of food to be taken on the trip, and while Old Marcellus was writing his letters, they summoned Joaquim and made known to him what was required. Then just before noon Felice came down to the river and helped push them off.
“Don’t get nervous, Hal,” she called.
“Your letter to Ceara will explain everything.”
“Even that it’s not my fault that my uncle’s a secret service man, hunting for your brother?” Hal laughed.
“Of course,” she said, giggling merrily. “Your uncle’s not going to hunt for Rene after you get back to Manaos, is he?”