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Marie de Berniere

a tale of the Crescent city, etc. etc. etc
  
  
  

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CHAPTER XXVII.
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27. CHAPTER XXVII.

Maria de Pacheco still slept. It was now doubly
important to the Maroon that she should continue to
do so. To rise softly—which he now succeeded in
doing, without arousing her—to extinguish the brands,
and to steal forth and see what was the course and
what the purpose of Amaya, was the next natural
movement of Lopez. He soon smothered the flame
and quenched the burning embers; but the night had
grown dark, the stars were shrouded, and, when he
emerged from the cavern, he could see nothing. He
stole back, trembling with doubt and apprehension,
and wondering what next would follow. Maria had
awakened.

“Where are you?”—was her salutation as he drew
nigh—“Where have you been?”

“Hear you the wind, Maria? The night is very
dark and gusty. We shall have a storm to-morrow.”

“But we are safe, Lopez!” was the reply.

“I am not so sure of that,” was the secret whisper
of his guilty heart.

The night passed without farther interruptions. At


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dawn, the Maroon arose before his companion. He
proceeded to his treasure, which he now prepared to
have in readiness to convey, without being suspected,
on board the vessel. The richer pearls were hidden
in his bosom and in the folds of his garments. The
rest were stored away carefully in the bottom of one
of the largest baskets which he had found in his cavern,
and which he pretended had been picked up on the
shore. A few bananas were laid upon the top, to
prevent inquiry. His arrangements were all complete
before Maria awakened. With the sunrise
they had both emerged upon the beach. But the sun
rose faintly, and struggled on his course against numerous
clouds. The wind came in sudden gusts, sweeping
the ocean into temporary anger. The lulls between
were not less unpromising; and, to the old
seamen, the signs were pregnant of one of those wild
and capricious changes of the weather, which so frequently
converted into a scene of wrath and horror the
otherwise sweet serene of these latitudes. But Maria
did not heed these signs, in the consciousness of the
attainment of her desires. Lopez was too anxious to
leave the neighborhood of the poor Caribbean damsel,
about whom his heart constantly reproached itself;
and those whom we left on shipboard were quite
too happy, in the enjoyment of their unfrequent saturnalia,
to disturb themselves with anticipations of the
future. It may have been a fancy only, but, looking
back at the moment ere he stepped into the boat which
was to convey him from the islet, did he catch a
glimpse of the slender form of Amaya among the

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palms, with her arm outstretched, and pointing to the
cavern? A second and more earnest glance revealed
him nothing.

Safely within the ship, his treasures made secure,
and with the example of all around him persuading
him to licentiousness, Lopez de Levya soon gave way
to excesses which contributed to make him forgetful
of the damsel he had deserted. He was received with
half maudlin affection by Linares and the crew. The
coarser pleasures in which these were indulging were
transferred, with some qualifying refinements, to the
cabin of Velasquez. Here, from flagons of gold and
silver, did our Maroon quaff the intoxicating beverage
to the health of Maria de Pacheco and the prosperous
fortunes of the Dian de Burgos. The day
passed in prolonged indulgence. The excesses which
might have revolted Maria and her companion at
another time, were now only the outpourings of a
natural exultation, which was due to a sense of newly-acquired
freedom, and the acquisition of novel luxuries.
The gradual progress of the hours brought on
increase of wind which finally grew to storm. But
this occasioned no disquiet, and did not lessen the
enjoyments of any of the parties. Linares, like a
veteran seaman, full of wine as he was, first took care
to see that his vessel was secure. He was in a good
anchorage. His ship was stripped to the storm, and
he had no reason to apprehend that she would drag
her anchor under any pressure of the gale. A good
watch was set, and, wishing for more freedom in his
revels, he withdrew from the cabin to the more genial,
if more rough association of the crew.