Alvez himself, whose clothes were like those of an old Turk the day after a carnival, was one degree more respectable in appearance than his satellite, not that his looks spoke much for the very highest class of African slave-dealers. To Dick’s great disappointment, neither Harris nor Negoro was among his retinue.
Both Alvez and Coïmbra shook hands with Ibn Hamish, the leader of the caravan, and congratulated him on the success of the expedition. Alvez made a grimace on being told that half the slaves had died on the way, but on the whole he seemed satisfied; he could meet the demand that at present existed, and would lose no time in bartering the new arrival for ivory or hannas, copper in the shape of a St. Andrew’s cross, the form in which the metal is exported in Central Africa.
After complimenting the havildars upon the way in which they had done their work, the trader gave orders that the porters should be paid and dismissed. The conversations were carried on in a mixture of Portuguese and native idioms, in which the African element abounded so largely that a native of Lisbon would have been at a loss to understand them. Dick, of course, could not comprehend what was said, and it was only when he saw a havildar go towards the cell in which Tom and the others were confined, that he realized that the talk was about himself and his party.
When the negroes were brought out, Dick came close up, being anxious to learn as much as he could of what was in contemplation. The old trader’s eyes seemed to brighten as he glanced upon the three strapping young men who, he knew, would soon be restored to their full strength by rest and proper food. They at least would get a good price; as for poor old Tom, he was manifestly so broken down by infirmity and age, that he would have no value in the market.
In a few words of broken English, which Alvez had picked up from some of his agents, he ironically gave them all a welcome.
“Glad to see you!” he said, with a diabolical grin.
Tom knew what he meant, and drew himself up proudly.
“We are free men!” he protested, “free citizens of the United States!”
“Yes, yes!” replied Alvez, grinning, “you are Americans; very glad to see you!”
“Very glad to see you!” echoed Coïmbra, and walking up to Austin he felt his chest and shoulders, and then proceeded to open his mouth in order to examine his teeth.
A blow from Austin’s powerful fist sent the satellite staggering backwards.
Some soldiers made a dash and seized the young negro, evidently ready to make him pay dearly for his temerity; but Alvez was by no means willing to have any injury done to his newly-acquired property, and called them off. He hardly attempted to conceal his amusement at Coïmbra’s discomfiture, although the blow had cost him one of his front teeth.
After he had recovered somewhat from the shock, Coïmbra stood scowling at Austin, as if mentally vowing vengeance on some future occasion.
Dick Sands was now himself brought forward in the custody of a havildar. It was clear that Alvez had been told all about him, for after scanning him for a moment, he stammered out in his broken English—
“Ah! ah! the little Yankee!”
“Yes,” replied Dick; “I see you know who I am. What are you going to do with me and my friends?”
“Yankee! little Yankee!” repeated the trader, who either did not or would not comprehend the meaning of Dick’s question.
Dick turned to Coïmbra and made the same inquiry of him; in spite of his degraded features, now still farther disfigured by being swollen from the blow, it was easy to recognize that he was not of native origin. He refused to answer a word, and only stared again with the vicious glare of malevolence.
Meanwhile, Alvez had begun to talk to Ibn Hamish. Dick felt sure that they intended to separate him from the negroes, and accordingly took the opportunity of whispering a few words to them.
“My friends, I have heard from Hercules. Dingo brought me a note from him, tied round his neck. He says Harris and Negoro have carried off Mrs. Weldon, Jack, and Mr. Benedict. He did not know where. Have patience, and we will find them yet.”
“And where’s Nan?” muttered Tom, in a low voice.
“Dead,” replied Dick, and was about to add more, when a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and a voice that he knew too well exclaimed—
“Well, my young friend, how are you? I am glad to see you again.”
He turned round quickly. Harris stood before him.
“Where is Mrs. Weldon?” asked Dick impetuously.
“Ah, poor thing!” answered Harris, with an air of deep commiseration.
“What! is she dead?” Dick almost shrieked; “where is her child?”
“Poor little fellow!” said Harris, in the same mournful tone.
These insinuations, that those in whose welfare he was so deeply interested had succumbed to the hardships of the journey, awoke in Dick’s mind a sudden and irresistible desire for vengeance. Darting forwards he seized the cutlass that Harris wore in his belt, and plunged it into his heart.
With a yell and a curse, the American fell dead at his feet.
X
Market-Day
So sudden was Dick’s action that it had been impossible to parry his blow. Several of the natives rushed on him, and in all likelihood would have struck him down upon the spot had not Negoro arrived at that very moment. At a sign from him the natives drew back, and proceeded to raise and carry away Harris’s corpse.
Alvez and Coïmbra were urgent in their demand that Dick should forthwith be punished by death, but Negoro whispered to them that they would assuredly be the gainers by delay, and they accordingly contented themselves with ordering the youth to be placed under strict supervision.
This was the first time that Dick had set eyes upon
