Frascuelo had heard from the Chilean
who brought his meals that there was an Englishwoman on board, but he
did not know that she spoke Spanish fluently. He answered her question
politely enough in the next breath, and the dog indicated the right
door by hopping inside.
Frascuelo was reclining on a lower bunk. His injured leg was well on
the way towards recovery, but the wound and its resultant confinement
had chastened him; he had lost the brigandish swagger which was his
most cherished asset.
After acknowledging inquiries as to his progress, he showed such
eagerness for news that Elsie told him briefly what had caused the
latest uproar. She cheered him, too, with the announcement made by the
engineer, and then led him to the topic on which she sought information.
"In some ways, I regard you as most unfortunate," she said. "I have
been told you are here by accident--that you never meant to take the
voyage at all. Is that true?"
Frascuelo, delighted to have secured a sympathetic listener, poured
forth his sorrows volubly. He bore no ill-will against the captain he
said.
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