Her heart sank when she discovered this new maelstrom in her sea of troubles; but here was Carmela herself speaking to her, and in English:
"So you are Iris Yorke!" the girl was saying. "I have heard so much of you, yet you are so utterly different from what I imagined."
"You have heard of _me_?" repeated Iris, and surprise helped her to smile with something of her wonted self-possession.
"Yes, on board the steamer. We sailed from Southampton, and had little else to talk of during the voyage. But, of course, you cannot understand. Among my fellow-passengers were your uncle and Mr. Bulmer."
Iris had long relinquished any hope of communicating with Bootle until the present deadlock in the operations of the two armies was a thing of the past. Completely mystified now by Carmela's glib reference to the two men whose names were so often in her thoughts though seldom on her lips, she could only gaze at the Senhora De Sylva in silent bewilderment.
Carmela, feeling that she was gaining ground rapidly, affected a note of polite regret.
"Please forgive me for being so abrupt. Perhaps I ought to have prepared you. But it is quite true. Mr. Verity and Mr. Bulmer came with me from Europe. We all reached Pernambuco the day before yesterday. Indeed, if it were not for them, and the assistance they gave me, I would not be here now. No one recognized me, fortunately, and--I hope you will not be vexed--I passed as Mr. Verity's niece. In fact, I took your place for the time."
A notable feature of the De Sylva utterance was its clearness. Carmela's concluding words could not possibly be mistaken for anything else. Their meaning, on the other hand, was capable of varying shades of significance; but Iris was far too amazed to seek depths beneath their literalness.
"If Mr. Verity and Mr. Bulmer are in Brazil----" she began tremulously, but Carmela broke in with a shrill laugh.
"There is no 'if.' Look below there, near my father's tent! They have arrived. They are asking for you. Come, let us meet them! I must see my father before he departs."
Iris's swimming eyes could not discern the figures to which Carmela was pointing. But this strange girl's triumphant tone rang like a knell in her heart. She was not thinking now of the complications that might arise between San Benavides and his discarded flame. She only knew that, by some miracle, her uncle had come to bring her home, and with him was the man to whom she was plighted, while Philip, only half an hour ago, had told her he would not see her again until the following evening.