Woe to whomsoever had done this deed; for whoever it was, I would never rest until I had punished him. The world was too small to hold both of us; one must pass out should we meet face to face. With these thoughts, I caught up my hat, and walked out upon the broad veranda.
Without, dusk was just beginning to fall. The men were struggling up from the vessel bringing their booty, the spoils of the ships they had rifled, and their rude songs floated up to me. The natives, men, women, and children, were running to and fro, their arms loaded with small articles.
A little apart from the men stood a small group, composed of DeNortier, Herrick, Francis, and one of the Indians. Even as I looked, they separated—the Count and the Indian going toward the barrack, Herrick going down the path toward the landing place, and the priest coming toward me.
As he drew nearer I could see his fat, evil face, with its watery eyes, looking like some bloated monster of the deep. He called to me as he drew closer, the habitual leer upon his face:
"How does my lord stand the fatigue of his travel? I trust that he has not been greatly inconvenienced by our rude accommodations."
I answered calmly, having my own reasons for not angering the man; perhaps he knew something of the plan to detain me here, and who stood behind it.
"Not greatly fatigued," I said, "and yet tired. Come inside and have a glass of the wondrous wine of the Count."
The pale eye lit up, his tongue protruded from his lips, as I have seen a dog's at the sight of a bone, and he glanced hastily around him. Only a few men were in sight, busy at work around the barrack.
Coming nearer he spoke in a low voice: "I will take one glass with thee, noble sir; only one glass, to celebrate thy safe arrival."
"Come into the house, then," I said. Retracing my steps to the room which I had just left, I threw myself upon one of the divans, motioning him to take the one opposite.