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A False Trail

           "HadtheSergeantheardwhetheranyEuropeanswereprisonersinthehandsoftheCaciques?"

           Manuellookedthoughtfulforafewminutes,likeamantryingtoransackhismemory.Atlasthesaid:

           "Yes."

           "Ah!"saidGlenarvan,catchingatthefreshhope.

           TheyalleagerlycrowdedroundtheSergeant,exclaiming,

           "Tellus,tellus."

           "Itwassomeyearsago,"repliedManuel."Yes;allIheardwasthatsomeEuropeanswereprisoners,butIneversawthem."

           "Youaremakingamistake,"saidGlenarvan."Itcan’tbesomeyearsago;thedateoftheshipwreckisexplicitlygiven.TheBritanniawaswreckedinJune,1862.Itisscarcelytwoyearsago."

           "Oh,morethanthat,myLord."

           "Impossible!"saidPaganel.

           "Oh,butitmustbe.ItwaswhenPepewasborn.Thereweretwoprisoners."

           "No,three!"saidGlenarvan.

           "Two!"repliedtheSergeant,inapositivetone.

           "Two?"echoedGlenarvan,muchsurprised."TwoEnglishmen?"

           "No,no.WhoistalkingofEnglishmen?No;aFrenchmanandanItalian."

           "AnItalianwhowasmassacredbythePoyuches?"exclaimedPaganel.

           "Yes;andIheardafterwardthattheFrenchmanwassaved."

           "Saved!"exclaimedyoungRobert,hisverylifehangingonthelipsoftheSergeant.

           Yes;deliveredoutofthehandsoftheIndians."

           Paganelstruckhisforeheadwithanairofdesperation,andsaidatlast,

           "Ah!Iunderstand.Itisallclearnow;everythingisexplained."

           "Butwhatisit?"askedGlenarvan,withasmuchimpatience.

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