Carlos answered mockingly, “Oh, for Spaniard, no. He is a descendant of
the Irish kings.”
“He’s an adventurer,” I said. “You ought to be on your guard. You don’t
know these bog-trotting fortune-hunters. They’re the laughter of Europe,
kings and all.”
Carlos smiled again. “He’s a very dangerous man for all that,” he said.
“I should not advise any one to come to Rio Medio, my uncle’s town,
without making a friend of the Señor O’Brien.”
He went once more to the inner door, and, after a moment’s whispering
with someone within, returned to me.
“My uncle still sleeps,” he said. “I must keep you a little longer. Ah,
yes, the Señor O’Brien. He shall marry my cousin, I think, when I am
dead.”
“You don’t know these fellows,” I said.
“Oh, I know them very well,” Carlos smiled, “there are many of them at
Havana. They came there after what they call the ’98, when there was
great rebellion in Ireland, and many good Catholics were killed and
ruined.”
“Then he’s a rebel, and ought to be hung,” I said.
Carlos laughed as of old. “It may be, but, my good Juan, we Christians
do not see eye to eye with you. This man rebelled against your
government, but, also, he suffered for the true faith. He is a good
Catholic; he has suffered for it; and in the Ever Faithful Island, that
is a passport. He has climbed very high; he is a judge of the Marine
Court at Havana. That is why he is here to-day, attending my uncle in
this affair of delivering up the pirates. My uncle loves him very much.
O’Brien was at first my uncle’s clerk, and my uncle made him a _juez_,
and he is also the intendant of my uncle’s estates, and he has a great
influence in my uncle’s town of Rio Medio. I tell you, if you come to
visit us, it will be as well to be on good terms with the Señor Juez
O’Brien. My uncle is a very old man, and if I die before him, this
O’Brien, I think, will end by marrying my cousin, because my poor uncle
is very much in his hands. There are other pretenders, but they have
little chance, because it is so very dangerous to come to my uncle’s
town of Rio Medio, on account of this man’s intrigues and of his power
with the populace.”
I looked at Carlos intently. The name of the town had seemed to be
familiar to me. Now I suddenly remembered that it was where Nicolas
el Demonio, the pirate who was so famous as to be almost mythical, had
beaten off Admiral Rowley’s boats.
“Come, you had better see this Irish hidalgo who wants to do us so much
honour,”--he gave an inscrutable glance at me,--“but do not talk loudly
till my uncle wakes.”
He threw the door open. I followed him into the room, where the vision
of the ancient Don and the charming apparition of the young girl had
retreated only a few moments before.