Пятнадцатилетний капитан

Harris

           

           Weldon.

           "No,Mrs.Weldon,"repliedHarris,"IliveintheSouth,ontheChilianfrontier;butatthispresentmomentIamgoingtoAtacama,inthenortheast."

           "Arewethenonthebordersofthedesertofthatname?"askedDick

           Sand.

           "Precisely,myyoungfriend,andthisdesertextendsfarbeyondthemountainswhichshutoffthehorizon."

           "ThedesertofAtacama?"repeatedDickSand.

           "Yes,"repliedHarris."Thisdesertislikeacountrybyitself,inthisvastSouthAmerica,fromwhichitdiffersinmanyrespects.Itis,atthesametime,themostcuriousandtheleastknownportionofthiscontinent."

           "Andyoutravelalone?"askedMrs.Weldon.

           "Oh,itisnotthefirsttimethatIhavetakenthisjourney!"repliedtheAmerican."Thereis,twohundredmilesfromhere,animportantfarm,theFarmofSanFelice,whichbelongstooneofmybrothers,anditistohishousethatIamgoingformytrade.Ifyouwishtofollowmeyouwillbewellreceived,andthemeansoftransporttogainthetownofAtacamawillnotfailyou.Mybrotherwillbehappytofurnish,them."

           Theseoffers,madefreely,couldonlyprepossessinfavorofthe

           American,whoimmediatelycontinued,addressingMrs.Weldon:

           "Theseblacksareyourslaves?"

           AndhepointedtoTomandhiscompanions.

           "WehavenolongeranyslavesintheUnitedStates,"repliedMrs.Weldon,quickly."TheNorthabolishedslaverylongago,andtheSouthhasbeenobligedtofollowtheexampleoftheNorth!"

           "Ah!thatisso,"repliedHarris."Ihadforgottenthatthewarof1862haddecidedthatgravequestion.

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