CHAPTER XXXVI.
We learn what hath become of Moll; and how she nobly atoned for our sins.
"Barbary—Barbary!" gasps Dawson, thunderstruck by this discovery. "My Moll in Barbary?"
"She sailed three days ago," says the Don, laying down his pipe, and rising.
Dawson regards him for a moment or two in a kind of stupor, and then his ideas taking definite shape, he cries in a fury of passion and clenching his fists:
"Spanish dog! you shall answer this. And you" (turning in fury upon Sidi), "you—I know your cursed traffic—you've sold her to the Turk!"
Though Sidi may have failed to comprehend his words, he could not misunderstand his menacing attitude, yet he faced him with an unmoved countenance, not a muscle of his body betraying the slightest fear, his stoic calm doing more than any argument of words to overthrow Dawson's mad suspicion. But his passion unabated, Dawson turns again upon Don Sanchez, crying:
"Han't you won enough by your villany, but you must rob me of my daughter? Are you not satisfied with bringing us to shame and ruin, but this poor girl of mine must be cast to the Turk? Speak, rascal!" adds he, advancing a step, and seeking to provoke a conflict. "Speak, if you have any reason to show why I shouldn't strangle you."
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