" Rosa was all excitement
once more. "He'll be glad he came and got me, if he does come."
Esteban caressed her. "He'll come, never fear. You remember he
warned me to be careful? Well I--I blame myself for bringing you
to this. For myself, of course I don't mind, but for you this life
must be terrible. I know it. Every time I leave you my heart is in
my throat for fear of what may happen in my absence--and yet I
can't always be at your side."
"There! You acknowledge that I handicap you. Except for me you
would be making a glorious name for yourself."
"Nothing of the sort. More probably I'd be getting myself killed.
No! It's better this way. We must be brave and patient and--think
of what is waiting for us at the bottom of that well."
It was indeed a great piece of luck which had enabled Esteban
Varona to buy a half-dozen Mausers from a Spanish soldier. Through
Asensio's acquaintance he had profited by the dishonesty of an
enemy, and, although it had taken all his money to effect the
purchase, Esteban considered the sacrifice well worth while. The
fire of patriotism burned fiercely in him, as did his hatred of
Pancho Cueto, and the four trusty young negroes to whom he had
given rifles made, with Asensio and himself, an armed party large
enough to be reckoned with. These blacks were excitable fellows,
and wretched marksmen, but, on the other hand, each and every one
had been raised with a machete at his hip and knew how to use it.
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