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Chapter 8

           Heclaspedthetelegraphistcloseroundtheneck,assuringhimthatalltheofficersoftheEsmeraldagarrisonweregoingtobemadecolonels,whiletearsofhappinessstreameddownhissoddenface.Thusitcameaboutthatthetownmajor,comingalonglater,foundthewholepartysleepingonthestairsandinpassages,andthetelegraphist(whoscornedthischanceofescape)verybusyclickingthekeyofthetransmitter.Themajorledhimawaybareheaded,withhishandstiedbehindhisback,butconcealedthetruthfromSotillo,whoremainedinignoranceofthewarningdespatchedtoSulaco.

           Thecolonelwasnotthemantoletanysortofdarknessstandinthewayoftheplannedsurprise.Itappearedtohimadeadcertainty;hisheartwassetuponhisobjectwithanungovernable,childlikeimpatience.EversincethesteamerhadroundedPuntaMala,toenterthedeepershadowofthegulf,hehadremainedonthebridgeinagroupofofficersasexcitedashimself.DistractedbetweenthecoaxingsandmenacesofSotilloandhisStaff,themiserablecommanderofthesteamerkepthermovingwithasmuchprudenceastheywouldlethimexercise.Someofthemhadbeendrinkingheavily,nodoubt;buttheprospectoflayinghandsonsomuchwealthmadethemabsurdlyfoolhardy,and,atthesametime,extremelyanxious.Theoldmajorofthebattalion,astupid,suspiciousman,whohadneverbeenafloatinhislife,distinguishedhimselfbyputtingoutsuddenlythebinnaclelight,theonlyoneallowedonboardforthenecessitiesofnavigation.

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