Summary

Portrait of Gustave Aimard Gustave Aimard The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

I am a chief, I have no forked tongue, and a falsehood has never sullied the lips of Omopoua."
"Forgive me, Chief, the improper language I used at the first moment; I was blinded by anger and sorrow," said Don Sancho, holding out his hand.
"The paleface is young," the chief replied with a smile; "his tongue moves more quickly than his heart;" then he took the hand so frankly offered him, and pressed it cordially.
"Oh, oh!" the Major-domo said, with a shake of his head, and leaning over to Don Sancho's ear, "If I am not greatly mistaken, Don Stenio is mixed up in this affair."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Gustave Aimard Gustave Aimard The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

Fray Arsenio turned toward him a face whose features were distorted by pain, and gave him a look full of ineffable gentleness.
"I thank you, my lord," he said, "for having taught me that pain does not exist for a man whose faith is lively."
"My curses on you, wretch!" the Count exclaimed, as he hurled him down with a blow on the chest. "To horse, señores, to horse, so that we may reach the hatto before sunrise."
The cavaliers remounted, and went off at full speed, leaving, without a glance of compassion, the poor monk, who, vanquished by pain, had rolled fainting on the ground.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Gustave Aimard Gustave Aimard The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

Kitts, I have been studying filibustering, its life, manners, and aspirations, and I have recognised with sorrow that the results do not justify its efforts. What are we doing? Nothing, or almost nothing. In spite of our indomitable courage, the Spaniards laugh at us; too weak, owing to our isolation, to inflict serious losses on them, we expend our energy in vain; we shed our blood, to take from them a few wretched vessels. It is not thus that matters ought to go on; this is not the vengeance which each of us dreamed of. What is the cause of our relative weakness toward our formidable enemy?
Source: Gutenberg

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