With one hand Juanna gathered up the torn dress, and with the other she began to do something to her hair. An agony of fear took hold of Leonard. He knew the story of the poison which she carried: was she about to use it?
Once again their eyes met, and there was warning in his glance. Juanna loosed her hair indeed, and let it fall about her shoulders, covering her rent robe to the waist, but she did no more. Only after this Leonard saw that she kept her right hand closed, and knew that her death was hidden within it. Then she spoke once more to Pereira.
"In your last hour may you remember these two deeds!" she said, pointing to the writhing kitten and to her torn dress.
Now slaves drew near to do their master's bidding, but that audience would not suffer this.
"Leave her alone," they said; "we can see that the girl is fair and perfect."
Then the slaves hung back, nor did Pereira repeat his commands.
Returning to the verandah, he stood by the chair, and, taking an empty glass in his hand by way of an auctioneer's hammer, he began:
"Gentlemen, I am going to offer you a very choice lot, so choice that it makes up all the sale. The lot is a white girl, half English and half Portuguese by blood. She is well educated and devout; as to her docility I can say nothing, that will be for her husband to attend to. Of her beauty I need not speak; you can all see it yourselves. Look at that figure, that hair, those eyes; have any of you known their equal?
"Well, this lot will be sold to him among you who is inclined to make me the largest present in compensation; yes, he may take her this very hour, and my blessing with her. But there are conditions: he whom I approve must be lawfully married to the girl by the priest Francisco here," and turning he pointed to a small melancholy–looking man, with a womanish face and dark blue eyes, who stood in the background, clothed in a somewhat tattered priest's robe. "Then I shall have done my duty by her. One more thing, gentlemen: we are not going to waste time in little bids; the upset price will be thirty ounces."
"Silver?" said a voice.
"Silver? No, of course not. Do you think you are bidding for a nigger girl, fool? Gold, man, gold! Thirty ounces of gold, and payment to be made on the nail."
There was a groan of disappointment, and one ruffian cried out:
"What are we poor fellows to do? Thirty ounces for a beginning! Where is our chance?"
"What are you to do? Why, work hard at your profession, and grow rich, of course! Do you suppose that these prizes are for the poor? Now then, the fair is open. Who bids for the white girl Juanna? Thirty ounces is offered. What advance, what advance?"
"Thirty–five," said a wizened little man with a hectic cough, who looked fitter for a burial than a bridal.
"Forty!" cried another, a pure–bred Arab of stately appearance and saturnine expression, who wished to add to his harem.
"Forty–five," answered the wizened man.
Then the Arab bid fifty, and for a while it seemed that these two alone were competitors. When the bids had reached seventy ounces the Arab muttered "Allah!" and gave up. He preferred to wait for the houris.
"Knock her down," said the wizened man, "she is mine."
"Hold on a bit, my little friend," said the great Portugee, Xavier, who had passed the water–gate before Leonard and his companions. "I am going to begin now. Seventy–five."
"Eighty," said the little man.
"Eighty–five," answered Xavier.
"Ninety," screamed the other.
"Ninety–five," said Xavier.
"A hundred," yelled the small man, snapping his fingers.
"A hundred and five," replied Xavier, triumphantly capping his bid.
Then with a curse his antagonist gave up also, and the mob shouted, thinking that Xavier had won.
"Knock her down, Pereira," said Xavier in his turn, as he surveyed his prize with affected nonchalance.
"Wait a moment," put in Leonard, speaking for the first time. "I am going to begin now. A hundred and ten."
The multitude shouted again, the contest was growing exciting. Xavier glared at Leonard and bit his fingers with rage. He was very near his limit of possible expenditure.
"Now then," cried Pereira, licking his lips for joy, since the price had already run twenty ounces higher than he expected, "Now then, friend Xavier, am I to knock down this beauty to the stranger captain Pierre? It sounds a lot, but she is cheap at the price, dirt cheap. Look at her and bid up. But mind, it is cash down—no credit, no, not for an ounce."
"A hundred and fifteen," said Xavier, with the air of a man making his last throw for fortune.
"A hundred and twenty," replied Leonard quietly.
He had bid to the last ounce in his possession, and if Xavier went further he must give in, unless, indeed, he chose to offer Soa's ruby in payment. This, needless to say, he was not anxious to do; moreover, no one would believe a stone of that size to be genuine. Of all this, however, Leonard showed nothing in his face, but turning coolly he called to a slave–girl to bring him spirits and busied himself with filling his glass. His hand never trembled, for he knew well that his antagonist was watching for a cue, and if he showed uncertainty all might be lost. But in his heart, Leonard wondered what he should do if another ounce was bid.
Meanwhile the spectators were shouting encouragement, and Pereira was urging Xavier to increase his offer. For a while the Portugee hesitated, surveying Juanna, who stood pale and silent, her head bowed upon her breast. At this juncture Leonard turned, the glass still in his hand.
"Did you make any advance, senor?" he asked.
"No, curse you! Take her. I will not put down another ounce for her or any woman on the earth."
Leonard only smiled and looked at Pereira.
"Going!" said that worthy; "the white girl, Juanna, is going to the stranger Pierre for one hundred and twenty ounces of gold. Going! Come, Xavier, don't lose her. If you do you will only be sorry once, and that will be always. Now, for the last time," and he lifted his glass in his hand and paused.
Xavier made a step forward and opened his lips to speak.
Leonard's heart stood still, but presently the Portugee changed his mind and turned away.
"Gone!" screamed Pereira, bringing the glass down so heavily on the arm of his chair that it flew into fragments.
Chapter XIII
A Midnight Marriage
"Gone," said Pereira again. "Now, friend Pierre, before we ratify this matter by the aid of holy Church, perhaps you will table the gold. This is a cash transaction, remember."
"Certainly," answered Leonard. "Where is that black dog of mine, the dwarf? Ah! there he is. Dog, weigh out the stuff; if you have not enough, here is more." And he unbuckled his belt, from which he had been careful to extract the ruby, and threw it to Otter.
"Now, gentlemen and companions," he went on, "for I hope that we may do business together by and by, drink my health and my bride's. I have paid pretty dear for her, but what of it? A gentleman of our profession should always be ready to back his fancy, for if his is apt to be a short life he may as well make it a merry one."
"She will think the better of you, and you of her for it," cried a voice. "Here is to Captain Pierre and the girl." And they drank, shouting aloud in their half–drunken merriment.
Meanwhile Otter, advancing with obsequious steps, was pouring handful after handful of gold coin and ingots into the large scales which Pereira caused to be held before him. At length all the gold was in, a shining heap.