“Not if I can see Rene first and Unk next. Those two will compromise and I don’t mean maybe.”
“Indeed they will.” She waved a dainty handkerchief toward the departing canoe and smiled sweetly. “Be sure that Rene gets the other letter, Hal! I do hope he’s there all right. He’s got to know we’ve struck gold at last. And because of you.”
“Don’t thank me, Lady Felice. It was a mere accident. Really, Goncalves ought to get the credit for that.”
She shook her head, trying to look severe at Hal’s raillery, but in the end she smiled and called a warning to the Indian to be careful of the river. Then when the canoe glided swiftly out of sight of the settlement, she called, “Adios, Hal! I’ll see you tonight.”
“Adios, yourself, Felice!” Hal called back. “And as for tonight, that remains to be seen.”
The girl laughed in answer, and Hal listened to its sad, sweet echo until the noise of the rapids deafened him.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE CORONEL GONCALVES
They turned off the Pallida Mors and into a narrower stream. Small cataracts sprayed down over rocky cliffs, sending a continuous foam over the surface of the water. On the whole, it seemed to be not so rough, and they glided along hour after hour under the beaming sun until Hal began to tire.
Joaquim’s knowledge of the region was uncanny and Hal perceived, before very long, that the Indian must have made many such trips back and forth to Ceara’s camp. Also, he seemed to know just to the minute when they would arrive at the lonely jungle spot.
It was middle afternoon when Hal helped Joaquim push the canoe well up into the foliage overhanging the river bank. Then they clambered up, up and, with the Indian in the lead, came to a narrow trail over which they marched for a half hour.