with several others, by a Negro. Thanking him for his politeness Martin
seized the horse by the mane and vaulted into the saddle, if the rude
contrivance on its back might be so designated.

The string of mules then moved on, and Martin rode with a light heart
beside this obliging stranger, conversing with much animation.

In a very short time he learned, through the medium of his own bad
Portuguese and the Brazilian's worse English, that he was not more than
a day's ride from one of the diamond mines of that province of Brazil
which is named Minas Geraes; that he was still many leagues distant from
the sea; and that he would be sure to get work at the mines if he wished
it for the chief overseer, the Baron Fagoni, was an amiable man and very
fond of the English,--but he could not speak their language at all, and
required an interpreter. "And," said the Brazilian, with a look of
great dignity, "I hab de honour for be de 'terpreter."

"Ah!" exclaimed Martin, "then I am in good fortune, for I shall have a
friend at court."

The interpreter smiled slightly and bowed, after which they proceeded
for some time in silence.

Next evening they arrived at the mines; and, after seeing to the comfort
of his horse, and inquiring rather hastily as to the welfare of his
family, the interpreter conducted Martin to the overseer's house in
order to introduce him.

The Baron Fagoni stood smoking in the doorway of his dwelling as they
approached; and the first impression that Martin received of him was
anything but agreeable.

He was a large, powerful man, with an enormous red beard and moustache,
and a sombrero-like hat that concealed nearly the whole of his face. He
seemed an irritable man, too; for he jerked his arms about and stamped
in a violent manner as they drew near, and instead of waiting to receive
them, he entered the house hastily and shut the door in their faces.

"The Baron would do well to take lessons in civility," said Martin,
colouring, as he turned to the interpreter.

"Ah, he be a leet pecoolair, sometime! Nev'r mind. Ve vill go to him."

So saying, the interpreter opened the door and entered the hall where
the overseer was seated at a desk, writing as if in violent haste.

Seeing that he did not mean to take notice of them, the interpreter
spoke to him in Portuguese; but he was soon interrupted by a sharp
reply, uttered in a harsh, grating voice, by the overseer, who did not
look up or cease from his