The Rover of the Andes | Page 4

well as that of her companion.
Hastening forward, Lawrence apologised for having in the agitation of the moment allowed his mule to run loose.
"But I forgot," he added, "of course you do not understand English."
"Try Spanish," suggested the Peruvian, "she knows a little of that."
"Unfortunately I have forgotten the little that I had picked up here when a boy," returned Lawrence, as he mounted, "if I can manage to ask for food and lodging in that tongue, it is all that I can do."
They soon reached an opening in the bushes at the roadside, and, at the further end of a natural glade or track, observed a small wooden hut thatched with rushes. Towards this young Armstrong led the way.
He was evidently much affected, for his lips were compressed, and he gave no heed to a remark made by his companion. Entering the hut, he stood for some time looking silently round.
It was but a poor place with bare walls; a carpenter's bench in one corner, near to it a smith's forge, one or two chairs, and a few tools;--not much to interest a stranger but to Lawrence full of tender associations.
"It was here," he said in tones of deepest pathos, "that my father showed me how to handle tools, and my mother taught me to read from the Word of God."
Looking at his companions he observed that the large dark eyes of the Indian girl were fixed on him with an expression of unmistakable sympathy. He felt grateful at the moment, for to most men sympathy is sweet when unobtrusively offered whether it come from rich or poor-- civilised or savage.
"Come, this will do," said the Peruvian, looking round, "if you will kindle a fire on the forge, Senhor Armstrong, Manuela will arrange a sleeping chamber for herself in the closet I see there, while I look after the beasts."
He spoke in cheering tones, which had the effect of rousing the poor youth somewhat from his despondency.
"Well, then," he replied, "let us to work, and it is but just, as we are to sup together, and you know my name, that I should be put on an equal footing with yourself--"
"Impossible!" interrupted the other, with a slight curl of his moustache, "for as I am only six feet one, and you are at least six feet four, we can never be on an equal footing."
"Nay, but I referred to names, not to inches. Pray, by what name shall I call you?"
"Pedro," returned the Spaniard. "I am known by several names in these parts--some of them complimentary, others the reverse, according as I am referred to by friends or foes. Men often speak of me as a confirmed rover because of my wandering tendencies, but I'm not particular and will answer to any name you choose, so long as it is politely uttered. The one I prefer is Pedro."
He went out as he spoke to look after the mules, while Lawrence set about kindling a small fire and otherwise making preparations for supper.
The Indian girl, Manuela, with that prompt and humble obedience characteristic of the race to which she belonged, had gone at once into the little closet which her companion had pointed out, and was by that time busily arranging it as a sleeping chamber for the night.
CHAPTER TWO.
COMPACT WITH THE NEW FRIEND AND DISCOVERY OF AN OLD ONE.
Keeping the fire low in order to prevent its being seen by any of the wandering bands of patriots--alias soldiers, alias banditti--who might chance to be in the neighbourhood, the three travellers thus thrown unexpectedly together ate their supper in comparative silence, Lawrence and Pedro exchanging a comment on the viands now and then, and the handsome Indian girl sitting opposite to them with her eyes for the most part fixed on the ground, though now and then she raised them to take a quick stealthy glance at the huge youth whose appetite did not seem to be greatly affected by his misfortunes. Perhaps she was wondering whether all Englishmen, possessed such innocent kindly faces and such ungainly though powerful frames. It may be that she was contrasting him with the handsome well-knit Pedro at his side.
Whatever her thoughts might have been, the short glances of her lustrous eyes gave no clue to them, and her tongue was silent, save when she replied by some brief monosyllable to a remark or query put in the Indian language occasionally by Pedro. Sometimes a gleam of the firelight threw her fine brown features into bold relief, but on these occasions, when Lawrence Armstrong chanced to observe them, they conveyed no expression whatever save that of profound gravity, with a touch, perhaps, of sadness.
The bench being awkwardly situated for a table, they had arranged a small box, bottom up, instead. Lawrence and his new acquaintance