. . I grabs him by the throat and makes him
tell me all. And then it appears that the boat and the baby were never
found again, and every man of that crew, cap'en and all, believed I had
stolen it."
He paused. Father Pedro was staring at the prospect with an
uncompromising rigidity of head and shoulder.
"It's a bad lookout for me, ain't it?" the stranger continued, in
serious reflection.
"How do I know," said the priest harshly, without turning his head,
"that you did not make away with this child?"
"Beg pardon."
"That you did not complete your revenge by--by--killing it, as your
comrade suspected you? Ah! Holy Trinity," continued Father Pedro,
throwing out his hands with an impatient gesture, as if to take the
place of unutterable thought.
"How do YOU know?" echoed the stranger coldly.
"Yes."
The stranger linked his fingers together and threw them over his knee,
drew it up to his chest caressingly, and said quietly, "Because you DO
know."
The Padre rose to his feet.
"What mean you?" he said, sternly fixing his eyes upon the speaker.
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