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- Жюль Верн
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- Стр. 290/354
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Sand
,
it
did
not
suit
Negoro
,
who
did
not
care
to
give
up
his
victim
.
"
It
was
here
,
"
said
he
,
"
that
the
white
man
killed
our
comrade
Harris
.
"
"
It
is
here
that
he
ought
to
die
!
"
added
Alvez
.
"
Where
you
please
,
Alvez
,
"
replied
Moini
Loungga
;
"
but
a
drop
of
fire-water
for
a
drop
of
blood
!
"
"
Yes
,
"
replied
the
trader
,
"
fire-water
,
and
you
will
see
that
it
well
merits
that
name
!
We
shall
make
it
blaze
,
this
water
!
Jose-Antonio
Alvez
will
offer
a
punch
to
the
King
Moini
Loungga
.
"
The
drunkard
shook
his
friend
Alvez
's
hands
.
He
could
not
contain
his
joy
.
His
wives
,
his
courtiers
shared
his
ecstasy
.
They
had
never
seen
brandy
blaze
,
and
doubtless
they
counted
on
drinking
it
all
blazing
.
Then
,
after
the
thirst
for
alcohol
,
the
thirst
for
blood
,
so
imperious
among
these
savages
,
would
be
satisfied
also
.
Poor
Dick
Sand
!
What
a
horrible
punishment
awaited
him
.
When
we
think
of
the
terrible
or
grotesque
effects
of
intoxication
in
civilized
countries
,
we
understand
how
far
it
can
urge
barbarous
beings
.
We
will
readily
believe
that
the
thought
of
torturing
a
white
could
displease
none
of
the
natives
,
neither
Jose-Antonio
Alvez
,
a
negro
like
themselves
,
nor
Coimbra
,
a
mongrel
of
black
blood
,
nor
Negoro
either
,
animated
with
a
ferocious
hatred
against
the
whites
.
The
evening
had
come
,
an
evening
without
twilight
,
that
was
going
to
make
day
change
tonight
almost
at
once
,
a
propitious
hour
for
the
blazing
of
the
brandy
.
