Explore "The Rebel Chief" by Gustave Aimard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Cuéllar was carelessly smoking his cigarette, his left hand was laid on his long sabre, the end of the scabbard resting on the floor: there was a charming ease in the way in which he stood at the door of the room, letting his eyes wander around with a feline gentleness, and emitting through his mouth and nostrils, with the blessed sensuality of a real enjoyer, thick clouds of bluish smoke.
"Pardon, señores," he said, "before going further, it is necessary to have a thorough understanding, I think, so permit me to make a slight observation."