He fixed a fascinated stare
upon the fellow.
Colonel Cobo seemed no little pleased by the reception he created.
With his chest arched and his black eyes gleaming malevolently he
swaggered through the press, clicking his heels noisily upon the
stone flags. When he had gone Jacket voiced a vicious oath.
"So that is the butcher of babies!" exclaimed the boy. "Well, now,
I should enjoy cutting his heart out."
O'Reilly's emotions were not entirely unlike those of his small
companion. His lips became dry and white as he tried to speak.
"What a brute! That face--Ugh!"
He found himself shaking weakly, and discovered that a new and
wholly unaccountable feeling of discouragement had settled upon
him. He tried manfully to shake it off, but somehow failed, for
the sight of Rosa's arch-enemy and the man's overbearing
personality had affected him queerly. Cobo's air of confidence and
authority seemed to emphasize O'Reilly's impotence and bring it
forcibly home to him. To think of his lustful persecution of Rosa
Varona, moreover, terrified him. The next day he resumed his hut-
to-hut search, but with a listlessness that came from a firm
conviction that once again he was too late.
That afternoon found the two friends among the miserable hovels
which encircled the foot of La Cumbre, about the only quarter they
had not explored.
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