"Don Martin waits you, señor," he said.
Kenwardine excused himself to his hostess, and after promising to return
before long went away with the man.
"Who is Don Martin, and does he own the coaling wharf?" Clare asked.
"No," said the Spaniard. "What makes you imagine so?"
"There was some coal-dust on his messenger."
The Spaniard laughed. "Your eyes are as keen as they are bright,
señorita, but your father spoke of business and he does not deal in
coal. They use it for the engine at the sugar mill."
"Could I follow him to the mill? I would like to see how they extract the
sugar from the cane."
"It is not a good day for that; the machinery will not be running," said
the Spaniard, who looked at his wife.
"I meant to take you to the cathedral. Everybody goes on the fiesta," the
lady broke in.
Clare agreed. She suspected that her father had not gone to the sugar
mill, but this did not matter, and she presently left the house with her
hostess. The small and rather dark cathedral was crowded, and Clare, who
understood very little of what went on, was impressed by the close rows
of kneeling figures, while the candles glimmering through the incense,
and the music, had their effect. She came out in a thoughtful mood,
partly dazzled by the change of light, and it was with something of a
shock she stopped to avoid collision with a man at the bottom of the
steps. It was Brandon, and she noted that he looked well again, but
although they were face to face and he waited with his eyes fixed on her,
she turned away and spoke to her companion. Dick crossed the street with
his hand clenched and his face hot, but felt that he had deserved his
rebuff. He could not expect Miss Kenwardine to meet him as a friend.
An hour or two later, Kenwardine returned to the house with Richter, the
German, and said he found he must drive to a village some distance off to
meet an official whom he had expected to see in the town. He doubted if
he could get back that night, but a sailing barquillo would take
passengers to Santa Brigida, and Clare could go home by her. The girl
made no objection when she heard that two French ladies, whom she knew,
were returning by the boat, and stayed with her hostess when Kenwardine
and Richter left. Towards evening the Spaniard came in and stated that
the barquillo had sailed earlier than had been announced, but a steam
launch was going to Santa Brigida with some friends of his on board and
he could get Clare a passage if she would sooner go. Señor Kenwardine,
he added, might drive home by another road without calling there again.