"Don Esteban has promised to buy my freedom and the freedom of my
girl."

"So?" The manager was plainly surprised. "I didn't know that."
After a moment he began to laugh. "And yet you pretend to know
nothing about that treasure? Ha! You're a good boy, Sebastian, and
so I am. I admire you. We're both loyal to our master, eh? But now
about Evangelina." Cueto's face took on a craftier expression.
"She is a likely girl, and when she grows up she will be worth
more than you, her father. Don't forget that Don Esteban is before
all else a business man. Be careful that some one doesn't make him
so good an offer for your girl that he will forget his promise
and--sell her."

Sebastian uttered a hoarse, animal cry and the whites of his eyes
showed through the gloom. "He would never sell Evangelina!"

Cueto laughed aloud once more. "Of course! He would not dare, eh?
I am only teasing you. But see! You have given yourself away.
Everything you tell me proves that you know all about that
treasure."

"I know but one thing," the slave declared, stiffening himself
slowly, "and that is to be faithful to Don Esteban." He turned and
departed, leaving Pancho Cueto staring after him meditatively.

In the days following the birth of his children and the death of
his wife, Don Esteban Varona, as had been his custom, steered a
middle course in politics, in that way managing to avoid a clash
with the Spanish officials who ruled the island, or an open break