"Aw! indeed?"
"Yes," replied the landlord to the sportsman, "the colonel's coming.
He's a jolly old man, and likes to see other people enjoyin' a bit o'
fun. An' what's more, he's goin' to bring his daughter with him, and
another girl--a niece, I suppose. They say they're both splendid
creatures."
"Aw! indeed," languidly replied the sportsman, twisting his moustache.
It was evident that the landlord had failed to arouse his interest.
At that moment the first dance came to an end, and there was a stir at
the upper end of the room, where was another door of entrance.
"It's the colonel," exclaimed the landlord, hurrying forward.
Colonel Marchbanks entered with a lady on either arm. He was a splendid
old man--so tall that Lawrence could distinguish his fine bald head,
with its fringe of white hair, rising high above the intervening guests.
People became silent and fell away from him, as if to have a better look
at him.
"Come," said Pedro, suddenly, "I will introduce you."
There was a strange gleam in Pedro's eyes, and unwonted excitement in
his manner, as he pushed his way through the crowd.
Lawrence followed in some surprise.
Suddenly he heard a sharp, strange, indescribable shout. It was the
voice of Pedro, who was only a few yards in advance of him. Our hero
sprang forward and beheld a sight which filled him with surprise. One
of the girls who leaned on the colonel's arm was a beautiful blonde of
about fifteen, with flowing golden hair and rich brown eyes. She stood
as if petrified, with the brown eyes gazing intensely at Pedro, who also
stood transfixed returning the gaze with compound interest.
"Mariquita!" he murmured, holding out both hands.
"Yes," said the delighted colonel, "I felt quite sure she was your
child, but said nothing about--"
"Father!" burst from the girl, as, with a cry of joy, she bounded into
Pedro's arms.
"Just so," continued the colonel, "I didn't like to mention my
suspicions for fear of raising false hopes, and thought the surest way
would be to bring them face to face. Wasn't it so, Manuela?"
Lawrence turned as if he had received an electric shock. He had been so
absorbed in the scene we have just described, that he had not looked at
the girl who leaned on the colonel's other arm. He now turned and
beheld--not the Indian girl of his travels, but a fair-skinned,
dark-eyed senhorina. Yet as he gazed, the blood seemed to rush to his
brain, for these were the eyes of Manuela, and the slightly open little
mouth was hers--the straight Grecian nose, and the graceful figure. It
seemed as if his wildest dream were realised, and that Manuela had
become white!
He clasped his hands and gazed, as Pedro had just done, with such
intensity that the sportsman, observing the rudeness, said to his
friend--
"Aw--don't you think it would be as well to--aw--kick the fellow out of
the room?"
"Hallo! what's this?" exclaimed the old colonel, turning sharply on
Lawrence with a magnificent frown.
It was quite evident that _he_, as well as Pedro and our hero, had also
received a most unexpected surprise, for, not only did the youth
continue to stand gazing, with clasped hands, but the young lady did not
seem in the least offended. On the contrary, she looked up at the
colonel with an incomprehensible expression and a bewitching smile, as
she said, in excellent English--
"He is not rude, father, only astonished. Let me introduce my friend
and preserver, Mr Lawrence Armstrong."
But Lawrence heard not, and cared nothing for the introduction.
"It _is_ Manuela!" he exclaimed, with a hesitating step forward, and a
look of unbelief still lingering in his eyes.
She held out her little _white_ hand!
He grasped it. The _same_ hand certainly! There could be no doubt
about that.
"'Pon my honour--aw--the most interesting _tableau vivant_ I ever--aw--
saw!"
"Come, come," cried the colonel, whose pleased smile had given place to
unimaginable astonishment. "You--you should have prepared me for this,
Manuela. I--I'm obliged to you, senhor, of course, for--for saving my
daughter; but--come, follow me!"
He turned and left the room with rapid strides, and would have dragged
Manuela after him, if that young lady had not been endued with a pace--
neat, active, and what is sometimes called "tripping,"--which kept her
easily alongside of the ancient man of war.
Lawrence followed mechanically.
Pedro, with an arm round Mariquita's waist, brought up the rear.
As they vanished through the doorway the people gave them a hearty
cheer, and resumed dancing.
The sportsman found himself so much overcome that he could only
ejaculate, "aw!" But presently he recovered so far as to say, "Let's go
an' have a ciga'," and he also melted from the scene.