He spoke in a tone of cynical joviality, as if defying his misfortunes. The simple-minded Quashy, accepting it as genuine, said, “All right, massa,” in a tone of cheerful satisfaction, as he slid off his steed and set about preparing the encampment.
If our hero’s mind had been more at ease, it is probable that he would have enjoyed his surroundings greatly, for, although lost on the wide Pampas, they had not begun yet to suffer physically from that misfortune. Their wallets were still supplied with food sufficient for at least three full meals, the weather was serene, and the situation, viewed in one aspect, was exceedingly romantic. From the top of the rising ground where the fire was burning and the steaks of mare’s flesh roasting, the complete circle of the horizon could be seen, and the yellow-brown grass of the Pampas, at that time about a foot high, rolled with a motion that strangely resembled the waves of the liquid ocean itself.
But poor Lawrence was incapable of enjoying the beauties of nature just then. After one long, anxious look round to see if any object should present itself which might raise the faintest echo of hope, he returned to the camp, and sat down on a mound with a profound sigh.
“Chee’ up, massa,” said Quashy, raising his face, which glittered with his efforts to blow the fire into a glow. “You’s git her in de long run.”
“Get who?” demanded Lawrence, in surprise, not unmingled with a touch of severity, for this was the first time that his humble follower had dared to touch on the theme that was uppermost in his mind.
With a strange compound of what is well named “cheek” and humility, Quashy replied, “Her, you know, de Inca princess—Manuela. It’s all right!”
“And pray, Quashy, how do you know that it’s all right, or that I want anything to be all right. In short, what business have you to presume to—to—”
“Oh, it’s all right, massa,” replied the negro, with a wink—and what a wink that was!—“I knows all about it, bein’ zactly in de same state wid Sooz’n.”
Lawrence sought refuge from conflicting feelings in a loud laugh, and asked what hope Quashy could by any possibility entertain of ever seeing Susan again—she having, as it were, vanished from off the earth.
“Oh, nebber fear,” was Quashy’s comfortable reply. “I’s sure to find Sooz’n, for she no can git along widout me, no more nor I can git along widout her. We’s sure to find one anoder in de long run.”