Сердца трех / Hearts of three. Уровень 3. Джек Лондон

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see, this pretty girl is going to marry me!”

      “She took me for you[26],” Francis said. “And your Leoncia pulled her little revolver on an old fellow who wanted to kill me.”

      “It was her father, old Enrico[27] himself,” Henry exclaimed. “And the other men were her brothers.”

      “Henry, they all thought it was you, and not I. But why did they want to kill you?”

      Henry looked at him a moment, and then answered.

      “I quarreled with her uncle. He was her father’s youngest brother.”

      “Was?” interrupted Francis.

      “Yes,” Henry nodded. “His name was Alfaro Solano[28], and one day we quarreled. It was in the little town over there San Antonio[29]. He didn’t want me to marry Leoncia, you see. He insulted me, and we promised to kill each other. Many people heard our threats. Within two hours the Comisario[30] himself and two gendarmes found Alfaro’s body in the town. He was killed. Alfaro was very popular, and everybody is sure that I killed him. In Bocas del Toro, a messenger from Leoncia delivered back the engagement ring. I could not go back, so I came over here to dig for Morgan’s treasure… I wonder who killed Alfaro. If want to find him! And then there’ll be a wedding.”

      “Hmm,” Francis murmured. “That’s why her father and brothers wanted to kill me. When I look at you, I see we’re alike, except for my mustache.”

      “And for this…” Henry rolled up his sleeve, and on the left forearm showed a long, thin white scar. “I got that when I was a boy. I fell oft a windmill.”

      “Now listen to me,” Francis said. “I’ll help you. Stay here, and I’ll go back and explain Leoncia and her family everything.”

      “They can shoot you first before that, if you have no time to explain that you are not I,” Henry muttered bitterly. “Those Solanos shoot first and talk afterward.”

      “I’ll try, old man,” Francis wanted to help Henry.

      But the thought of her perplexed him. That lovely girl belonged to the man who looked so much like him! He sighed involuntarily.

      “Leoncia is a very pretty girl,” Francis said. “Where’s that ring she returned? If I don’t put it on her finger for you and be back here in a week with the good news, you can cut off my mustache along with my ears.”

      An hour later, Captain sent a boat to the beach from the Angelique. The two young men said good-bye.

      “Listen, Francis. First, Leoncia is not a Solano at all, though she thinks she is. Alfaro told me himself. She is an adopted child, Alfaro said she wasn’t Spanish at all. I don’t even know whether she’s English or American. She was adopted when she was a baby.”

      “And,” Francis laughed, “she believes that you killed her uncle.”

      Henry nodded, and went on.

      “The other thing is important, too. It’s a long way to Panama[31], and the Jefe Politico[32] at San Antonio is a very sly man. He’s the little czar of that land, and he’s a real scoundrel, believe me. He’s as cruel as a weasel. And his only delight is an execution[33]. He adores hanging. So… Please get that ring back on Leoncia’s finger.”

      Two days later, all the men of Leoncia’s family were away. Francis landed on the beach where he had first met her. Francis wrote on a sheet of paper from his notebook, “I am the man whom you mistook for Henry Morgan, and I have a- message for you from him.” Then he heard the Leoncia’s cry. Note and pencil fell to the sand. Soon he saw her. Leoncia’s face was colorless.

      “What is it?” Francis demanded. “Are you hurt? What’s happened?”

      She pointed at her bare knee with two tiny drops of blood.

      “It was a viperine,” she said. “A deadly viperine. I’ll be a dead woman in five minutes, and I am very glad, because I won’t see you again.”

      She sank down in a faint.

      Francis pulled out his handkerchief and tied it loosely around her leg above the knee. Next, he opened the small blade of his pocket-knife, burned it with several matches, and cut carefully into the two lacerations made by the snake’s fangs.

      The girl began to move restlessly.

      “Lie down,” he commanded.

      At the same instant the Indian lad ran out of the jungle. He was swinging a small dead snake by the tail and crying:

      “Labarri[34]! Labarri!”

      “Lie down, and be quiet!” Francis repeated harshly.

      “Oh!” she said. “It’s only a baby labarri, and its bite is harmless. I thought it was a viperine. They look alike.”

      She glanced down and discovered his handkerchief knotted around her leg.

      “Oh, what have you done? It was only a baby labarri,” she reproached him.

      “You told me it was a viperine,” he retorted.

      She hid her face in her hands. She was laughing.

      “And now, Miss Solano,” he said, “please, listen and don’t interrupt me.” He stooped and picked up the note. “I was just sending that to you by the boy when you screamed. Take it. Read it.”

      She looked at the paper.

      “I am the man whom you mistook for Henry Morgan…”

      “You… are… not… Henry?” she gasped.

      “No, I am not.”

      “But the name? your name?”

      “Morgan, Francis Morgan.” He bowed. “As I explained there, Henry and I are distant relatives. Moreover, Henry did not kill your uncle.”

      A great doubt suddenly dawned in her eyes.

      “Henry,” she accused him. “You are joking. Of course you are Henry.”

      Francis pointed to his mustache.

      “You’ve grown that since.”

      He pulled up his sleeve and showed her his left arm from wrist to elbow.

      “Do you remember the scar?” he asked.

      She nodded.

      “Then find it.”

      “I… I ask your

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