“El señor speaks Spanish better than I should have supposed possible from the short time he has been in the country,” he observed.
“I can understand what you say, and that is all I want,” I answered. “I have heard other Indians speak as you do, and so I am more ready to converse with you than I should be with a Spaniard.”
I felt sure that I could trust Manoel, as, from one or two remarks he had let drop, I was convinced that he was a Liberal, and had no love for the Spaniards. While we were encamped at night, sitting round our fire, we all talked away until it was time to go to sleep; but while travelling, as we were compelled to move in single file, it was difficult to carry on a conversation, except with the person immediately in front or behind.
After we had proceeded some distance, we began to hope that I had been mistaken in what I had heard the captain say to the sergeant, and that we should escape any risk of being captured and prevented from continuing our journey. Still Mr Laffan continued anxious on the subject.
We had been travelling for some time, and I was beginning to feel more tired than I had hitherto done. I had not as yet, indeed, quite recovered my full strength, and was scarcely fitted to walk as I was doing.
Manoel at length persuaded me to get on the silla. “It makes no difference to me,” he observed; “you are as light as a feather. You English are very different from the Spaniards. They get on our backs as if they were riding mules, and will often use a stick if we do not go fast enough to please them.”
I consented unwillingly, for I did not like the idea of any one carrying me.
From the position I had now attained, I could look
down the steep ascent we had mounted, and I had an extensive view. I saw Mr Laffan standing gazing back along the path we had come; the rest of the party were nowhere, in sight. We shouted, but no reply came. Could the Spaniards have acted as the captain had advised them, and captured our people?