The Rover of the Andes: A Tale of Adventure on South America by R. M. Ballantyne (best books to read for students .TXT) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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âDear me, Quashy,â said Manuela, an expression of sympathy appearing at once on her fine eyebrows, âwho is it? what is his name? and why does he send for me?â
âI canât tell you his name, miss. Iâs not allowed. But itâs a bad case, anâ it will be awrful if he should die widout seeinâ you. Youâd better be quick, miss, anâ Iâll promise to guide you safe, anâ take great care ob you.â
âThat I know you will, Quashy. I can trust you. Iâll order my horse imââ
âDe hoss am at de door aâready, miss. I order âim afore I come here.â
Manuela could not restrain a little laugh at the cool presumption of her sable friend, as she ran out of the room to get ready.
A few minutes more and the pair were cantering through the streets in the direction of the western suburbs of the town.
We regret to have to record the fact that Quashyâs deep-laid schemes in behalf of Manuela and the âsick manâ miscarried.
That same night, by the light of the full moon, he revealed to Susan his account of the affair, with a visage in which the solemnity of the wondering eyes seemed to absorb the expression of all the other features.
âSoozân,â he said, âde white folk is past my compreânshin altogidder, anâ I haânât got words to tell you how tâankful I am dat you anâ me was born black.â
âDas true, Quash. Weâs got reasin to rejoice. But what went wrong?â
âWhat went wrong? why, my lub, eberytâing went wrong. Look here, dis was de way ob it. When me anâ Miss Manuela got to de place whar I had fix on, dar was de lub-sick man sure ânuff, anâ you may bâliebe he look âstonished to see Manuela, but he wasnât half so âstonished as me at de way dey hoed on. What dâee tâink dey dooed, Soozân?â
âDun know. Sâpose dey run into each oderâs arms, anâ hab a dance roundâlike me anâ you.â
âNuffin ob de sort. I wouldnât hab bin suprised at dat at all. No, arter de fust look oâ suprise, Massa Lawrence looked orkerd, anâ Miss Manuela looked orkerder!â
âIt had bin in my mind,â continued Quashy, âarter I had bring âem togidder, to turn about, anâ enter into conbersation wid my hossâwhatâs pritty well used to my talk by dis timeâbut when I see how tâings went, I forgot to turn about, so ob course I heard anâ sawâd.â
âYou wasnât innercent dat time, Quashy.â
âI diânât say I was, Soozân, but I couânât help it. Well, Massa Lawrence, whoâs too much of a man to remain orkerd long, goes up to Miss Manuela wid a leetle smile, anâ holds out his hand. She shakes it quite gently-like, zif dey was onây noo acquaintances jest interdooced. Ob course I diânât hear rightly all dey saidââ
âHa! wantinâ to keep up a leetle innercence?â
âJest so, Soozân, but I couldnât help hearinâ a good dealâsometâing like dis:â
âSays Massa Lawrence, says he, âArternoon, Miss Muchbunks.â âDitto to you, sir,â says Manuelaââ
âNo, she didnât say dat,â interrupted Susan, with decision.
âWell, no, pârâaps not âzactly dat, Soozân, but suffin wid de same meaninâ. You know it iânât possible for me to speak like dem. Anâ dey bof seemed to hab got deir go-to-meetinâ langwidge onâall stiff anâ stuck up grammar, same zif dey was at school. Well, arter de speech about de wedder, dey bof blushedâI could see dat, dough I was tryinâ hard not to look,âand dey was so long silent dat I begin to tâink ob offerinâ to help, when Massa Lawrence he plucked up heart all ob a suddent, anâ went in like a good un.
ââManuela,â says he, quite bold-like, âI promised your fadder dat I would not make any âtempt to meet you before leabing for de mountains, anâ I hab faitâfully striben to keep dat promise. It is by mere chance, I assure you, dat I hab meet you here now, and I would not, for all de wurlâ break my word to your fadder. But as chance hab târown you in my way, it cannot be wrong to tell youâwhat you knows aâreadyâdat I lub you, and dat, God permittinâ, I will return ere long to Buenos Ayres. Farewell.â
âWid dat he wheel round, zif he was afraid to trust hisself to say more, anâ went off at full gallop.â
âAnâ what did Miss Manuela say?â asked Susan.
âShe say notâingânot one wordâonây she smile a leetle, anâ kiss her hand to him when he hoed away. It passes my compreânshin, kite. Anâ as we rode home she says to me, says she, âQuashy, youâs a good boy!â I bery near say to her, âManuela, youâs a bad gurl,â but I diânât feel kite up to dat.â
âQuashy, youâre a fool,â said Susan, abruptly.
âDas no news,â returned the amiable man, âIâs said dat ob myself ober anâ ober again since Iâs growed up. De onây time I feel kite sure I wasnât a fool was de time I falled in lub wid you, Soozân.â
As the negroâs account of this inflecting and parting was substantially correct, we feel indisposed to add more to it, except to say that our hero stuck manfully to his resolve, and finally went off to the distant valley in the Andes without again meeting the Inca princess.
He was accompanied by Pedro and his daughter, Quashy and Susan, Ignacio, the old hunter, and his boy, as well as Spotted Tiger. In addition to these there was a pretty large followingâsome engaged in the service of Pedro, others taking advantage of the escort. Among them were Dick Ansty, the Cornish youth, Antonio, the ex-bandit, and the English sportsman withâawâhis friend.
It is not our purpose to drag the patient reader a second time over the rolling Pampas, or to introduce him to the mysteries of silver-mining in the Andes. Our end shall be sufficiently explained by stating the fact that as Lawrence was faithful to his promise to Colonel Marchbanks, he was not less faithful to his promise to the daughter.
A year had barely elapsed when he found himself once again in Buenos Ayres, with the faithful Quashy at his side, and presented himself before the old colonel, not now as a beggar, but as part owner of one of the richest silver-mines in Peru.
Colonel Marchbanks, although a prudent man, was by no means avaricious.
âThe chief bar which prevented my listening to your proposal,â he said to Lawrence at their first interview, âis now removed, but I have yet to learn from my daughterâs own lips that she will have you. I have carefully avoided the subject from the very first, because I have no faith whatever in forcing, or even leading, the affections of a young girl. And let me tell you flatly, young senhor, that your being the richest man in Peru, and the greatest man as well, would not influence me so much as the weight of a feather, if Manuela does not care for you. So, you will prepare yourself to abide as well as you can by her final decision.â
âI am prepared to abide by Manuelaâs decision,â replied Lawrence, with what may be termed a modest smile.
ââPon my word, young man, you seem to be unwarrantably sure of your position,â said the colonel, somewhat sternly. âHowever, you have heard all I mean to say on the subject just now. Leave me, and return here in the evening.â
When Lawrence was gone, the old soldier found his daughter in a tastefully arranged closet which she called her boudoir, the miniature glass-door of which opened on a luxuriant garden, where wood, water, sunshine, and herbage, wild and tame, seemed to revel for the mastery.
âThat young fellow Armstrong has come back,â said the old man, abruptly.
âI know it,â was Manuelaâs brief reply. She did not look up, being too busily engaged at the moment in the hideously commonplace act of darning the smallest possible hole in one of her dear little stockings.
âYou know it, child?â
âYes, father.â
âDo you also know that he has just been here, and formally asked your hand in marriage?â
âYes, father, I know it.â
âWhy, child, how could you know that? You surely have not been tempted toâto condescend to eavesdropping?â
âNo, father, I have not condescended to that, but I have heard it on the best authority. Have you not yourself just told me?â
âOhâahâwell,â exclaimed the stern man, relaxing into a smile in spite of himself, as he observed the calm, quiet, earnest way in which that princess of the Incas applied herself to the reparation of that little hole. âNow Manuela, my darling,â continued the colonel, changing his tone and manner suddenly as he sat down beside her and put a hand lovingly on her shoulder, âyou know that I would not for all the world permit, or induce you to do anything that would risk your happiness. I now come to ask you seriously if youâif you are inâin short, if you admire this young fellow.â
Instead of answering, Manuela, while searching carefully for any other little hole that might have been made, or that was on the eve of being made, by any other little toe, asked the astounding questionâ
âIs he rich, father?â
A mixture of surprise and annoyance marked the old manâs tone and look as he repliedâ
âWhy, what has that got to do with it?â
âHave you not over and over again warned me, father, to beware of those gay young fellows who havenât got two sixpences to rub against each other, but have presumption enough to trifle with the affections of all the silly girls in the world. And are you sorry that I should have laid your lessons to heart?â
âTut, child, donât talk nonsense. Whether he is rich or poor is a mere matter of moonshine. The question I have to settle just now isâAre you fond of him?â
âWell, no, father, I canât exactly say that Iââ
âI knew it! I was sure of it! The presumptuous puppy!â shouted the old man of war, jumping up, overturning a work-table with its innumerable contents, and striding towards the door.
âStay, father!â said Manuela, in a tone that military discipline forbade him to disobey, and holding out both her hands with an air and grace that love forbade him to resist. âI donât admire him, and Iâm not fond of him,â continued the Inca princess, vehemently, as she grasped her parentâs hands; âthese terms are ridiculously inadequate. I love him, fatherâI adore himâIââ
She stopped abruptly, for a noise at the glass-door caused her to turn her eyes in that direction. It was Quashy, who stood there staring at them with all his eyes, and grinning at them with more than all his mouthâto say nothing of his ears!
âYou black baboon!â shouted the colonel, when able to speak.
âOh, nebber mind me, kurnel,â said Quashy, with a deprecatory air, ââskuse me. Iâs onây habinâ a stroll in de gardin anâ come here kite by haxidint. Go on wid your leetle game, anâ nebber mind me. Iâs onây a nigger.â
Colonel Marchbanks could not decide whether to laugh or storm. Manuela decided the question for him by inviting the negro to enter, which he did with humble urbanity.
âShake hands with him, father. Heâs only a nigger, as he says, but heâs one of the very best and bravest and most faithful niggers that I ever had to do with.â
âYouâs bery good, Missâaâmost as good as Soozân.â
âOh, well, have it all your own way,â cried the colonel, becoming reckless, and shaking the negroâs hand heartily; âI surrender. Lawrence will dine with us this evening, Manuela, so youâd better see to having covers laid for threeâor, perhaps, for four. It may be that Senhor Quashy will honour us withââ
âTâankee, kurnel, youâs bery kind, but Iâs got a prebious engagement.â
âA previous engagement, eh?â repeated the colonel, much tickled with the excuse.
âYes, kurnel; got to âtend upon Massa Lawrence;
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