The Amphibian / Человек-амфибия. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Александр Беляев

happened. Wait for me here while I do some scouting.”

      And dismounting, Baltasar crawled snakelike into the darkness.

      He returned in an hour.

      “The car’s out of order. They’re repairing it. Cristo keeps watch. Come on, let’s hurry and get it done with.”

      It was a quick job. The bandits took Salvator’s party by surprise – just when they had repaired the car-and tied Salvator, Cristo and the three Blacks hand and foot with not a shot fired.

      One of the bandits, who acted chieftain, Zurita preferring to stay in the’ background, told Salvator that they were prepared to ransom him for a big sum of money and named it.

      “Youll have it,” said Salvator.

      “That’s for you. And it’s double if you want your men set free too,” said the bandit following up his advantage.

      “I haven’t got that much money available,” Salvator said, after a pause.

      “Finish him off! “ the bandits shouted all at once.

      “I’ll give you till dawn to think it over,” said the bandits’ spokesman.

      Salvator shrugged his shoulders as he repeated:

      “I haven’t got that much available.”

      His coolness impressed even the bandits.

      Taking Salvator and his men aside, the bandits ransacked the car and found the spirits intended for collections. Soon they were drunk and sleeping on the ground.

      At crack of dawn somebody crawled softly to Salvator’s side.

      “It’s me,” came Cristo’s voice. “I managed to untie myself and have killed the bandit on watch. The rest are drunk and incapable. Let’s hurry! “

      They got in, the Black driver started the engine, the car leapt forward.

      Behind there were shouts and a few rifle shots rang out.

      Salvator pressed Cristo’s hand.

      Only after Salvator’s departure did Zurita learn that Salvator had been willing to pay. Wouldn’t it have been simpler just to take it than try to kidnap a “sea-devil” nobody knew was worth anything? It’s all over bar the shouting, though, he thought. And he waited for news from Cristo.

      The Amphibian

      Cristo had hoped that Salvator would send for him and say:

      “You’ve saved my life, Cristo. From now on there will be no secrets for you in this place. Come with me, I’ll show you the ‘sea-devil’.” Or words to that effect.

      But Salvator fell short of Cristo’s hopes. He generously rewarded the brave Araucanian and became all wrapped up in his research again.

      So Cristo started his own research. The secret door proved a hard nut to crack but his patience was rewarded in the end. One day he pressed a boss on it and it swung slowly open, like the door to a strong room. Cristo slipped through and the door swung shut, taking him a little aback. He examined it, pressing every boss in turn; the door didn’t open.

      “A fine trap I caught myself in,” he muttered. “Well, I might as well have a look round.”

      He found himself in a hollow, thickly overgrown with trees and bushes and walled in on all sides with man-made cliffs.

      The plants Cristo saw were of the kind usually growing on humid soils. The big shady trees did not let sunlight through to the numerous rivulets burbling underneath. Fountains, scattered among the trees, added to the moisture in the air. The place was as damp as the low banks of the Mississippi. Standing in the middle of the grounds was a small flat-roofed stone house with lichen-clad walls. The green blinds on the windows were pulled down. The house had a not-lived-in look.

      Cristo reached the far end of the orchard. Judging by the rustle of pebbles that came to him from behind the wall the ocean was close at hand. So this is as far as Salvator’s holding goes, thought Cristo. In front of the wall was a huge square tree-lined swimming pool no less than fifteen feet deep.

      At Cristo’s approach some creature he didn’t have time to see beyond a glimpse dashed from under the trees and across to the swimming pool, making a big splash as it plunged in. Cristo’s heart was beating nineteen to the dozen as he went closer. That must be him, the “sea-devil”, he thought. He was going to see him at last.

      The Indian looked into the clear water.

      On the bottom on white stone tiles crouched a big monkey. There was fear mingled with curiosity in its return glance. And it was breathing-breathing under the water! Spell-bound, Cristo couldn’t tear his glance away from its sides, heaving and falling, heaving and falling…

      Presently, with a start, Cristo recovered himself and gave a short laugh. So the “sea-devil”, fisherman’s bogey, was just a monkey that could breathe underwater.