Breakfast was over and Alvarez, sitting at a table in the arcade, smiled as he indicated the transformed patio. The broken pavement had been swept, the fountain scrubbed until the marble showed white veins, and the old brass rails of the balconies gleamed with yellow reflections where the sunshine fell. Small palms and flowering plants in tubs stood among the pillars, flags hung from crumbling cornices, and barefooted peons were fastening up colored lamps.

"When the people are discontented they must be amused," the president remarked. "In Rome, they gave them circuses and I had thought of a bull-fight. There is a Spanish quadrilla in Cuba but I found it would cost too much to bring the company across. Besides, I do not know if strong excitement would be good for the citizens."

"A ball is safer," Adam agreed. "While they have the function to talk about they'll forget to plot."

"For a week, perhaps! Well, it ought to be some help, if your agents are prompt."

"They're hustlers and know they've got to get busy. I expect the Rio Negro back in fourteen days, and then it will be your business to rush her cargo up. Mule transport's slow on your swamp tracks, and it's perhaps unfortunate you didn't give my friends the concession for the light railroad. You might have found it useful now."

Alvarez shrugged. "A railroad can be cut, and locomotives break down at awkward times when their drivers are bribed. Then, I have granted so many concessions that there is not much that foreigners think worth getting left in the country. One must keep something to bargain with."

"Governing a people like yours is an expensive job. However, since they make it expensive, they oughtn't to grumble if you tax them high."

"They do not always pay the taxes," Alvarez rejoined with a twinkle. "If they run me out, they will probably disown their debts, and then there will be trouble with the foreigners. Still, that is not very important, because I shall be gone and the Americans will not let the others' consuls use much pressure. The speculators understand the risks."

"That's so," said Adam and added meaningly: "Some of the speculators are
American."

Alvarez put his finely-shaped hand on Adam's arm. "My friend, if it is possible, you will be paid. If not, it will be because I am dead."

"I know," said Adam. "I'm not scared to take chances and when they go against me I don't grumble. Anyhow, time is important and if you work this ball properly it ought to give us another week. You'll get the money for your soldiers shortly afterwards and Mayne will land your guns."

The president's dark face softened and he smiled.

"I know whom I can trust," he said and went away.

"If it's possible for a half-breed to be an honest man, Don Hernando meets the bill," Adam remarked. "Anyhow, he's a better president than these folks deserve, and they'll be blamed fools if they turn him down." He was silent for a few moments and then resumed: "I gave you a share in my business, Kit, and now, if you are willing, I'll buy you out."

"But I'm quite satisfied; I'd much sooner stick to our agreement," Kit said with surprise.

"Well, I guess you're rash. Your share isn't large but it would go some way to buy an English farm. Raising Herdwick sheep is a pretty tame occupation, but I reckon it's safer than backing Alvarez."

Kit thought hard and imagined he saw Adam's object. "Of course," he said, "if you want to get rid of me—"

"I don't know that I'm keen. You're some help, but you came out to forget the girl in England, and not to stay. Well, if you mean to go, now's your time."

"The trouble is I haven't forgotten her," Kit answered quietly.

Adam's eyes twinkled. "If you go home, you may get her, and I allow she's probably worth the effort, but you're not going to side-track me like that. If you quit now, I can buy you out and you'll have something to help you make another start; afterwards I mayn't be able. You needn't hesitate about taking the money; I guess you've earned it."

"I suspected where you were leading. Still you see, I'd sooner stay. For one thing, I hate leaving an awkward job half finished. You're beginning to feel the job is bigger than you thought it was when you undertook it?"

"It certainly is," Adam agreed. "However, since you insist, I'll talk plain. Alvarez has no claim on you, although he has a claim on me, and I pay my debts. The last to fall due is going to strain my finances, but it must be paid, a hundred cents for every dollar. All the same, the liability is not yours. There's no reason why you shouldn't pull out while you're safe."

Kit shook his head. "I see a reason. I don't know if it's sound, but after all one's self-respect is worth something."

"Oh, well!" said Adam, "we won't quarrel. You're very like Peter and he's the staunchest man I know."

He got up and when he went off, Kit, feeling somewhat moved, lighted a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully. It looked as if Adam did not think the president would win, but for all that meant to stand by him. Although not fastidious about his business methods, Adam had his code and was not afraid, when friendship demanded it, to fight for a lost cause. Moreover, Kit meant to fight with him. Then he got up and smiled. Adam meant well, but he was clumsy; if he had wanted to save Kit from sharing his risk, he might have made a better plan.

When evening came Kit entered the arcade and sat down in a quiet spot to look about. The moon was nearly full and flooded half the patio with silver light; the rest was in shadow and rows of colored lamps twinkled in the gloom. A band played behind the pillars, the rattle of castanets breaking in on the tinkle of the guitars when the beat was sharply marked. The music was seductive, unlike any Kit had heard in England, and he thought it tinged by the melancholy the Moors had brought, long since, from the East to Spain.

At one end of the patio, groups of young men and women moved through the changing figures of an old Spanish dance. Their poses were strangely graceful, and some had a touch of stateliness. This vanished when the music changed and the well-balanced figures, raising bent arms, danced with riotous abandon. In a minute or two the melancholy note was struck again and the movements were marked by dignified reserve. Kit got a hint of Southern passion and, by contrast, of the austerity that often goes with Indian blood.

In the meantime, he noted the play of moving color, for the women wore white and pink and yellow. Some had flowers in their dark hair and some covered their heads with a lace mantilla. The men's clothes were varied, for a number wore shabby uniforms, and others white linen with red silk sashes, while a few had chosen the plain black, and wide sombrero, of the Spanish don.

At the other end of the patio, portly seÑoras with powdered faces sat among the pillars, and grave, dark-skinned citizens moved about the pavement in talking groups. A heavily-built man with a very swarthy color and thick lips went to and fro among them, bowing and smiling, and Kit knew this was Galdar, the president's rival. Kit did not like the fellow and thought his negro strain was marked. He looked sensual, cruel, and cunning. For the most part, the president stood outside the crowd, although now and then a group formed about him. He was tall and thin, his face was inscrutable, and Kit thought he looked lonely and austere.

By and by an officer Kit had met told him he must dance and took him along the arcade. The officer stopped where two girls sat under a string of lamps, with a man in black clothes and a fat old woman behind. At first, Kit could not see them well, but when they got up he started as he recognized the girl who had dropped the flower. Then he tried to hide his embarrassment as he was presented to SeÑorita Francisca Sarmiento. She was handsomer than he had thought and as she made him a stately curtsey her eyes twinkled.

Kit imagined the other girl studied him carefully and wondered whether she knew about the flower. It was, however, his duty to ask the seÑorita to dance, and after a few moments they crossed the pavement. Kit had some misgivings, because the dance was involved and one used a number of different steps, but the girl guided him through its intricacies and when he took her back signed him to sit down. He obeyed, for Francisca Sarmiento had an imperious air. Other young men came up when the music began again, but passed on, and Kit imagined the girl had made them understand they were to do so since one or two frowned at him.

"Well," she said, looking at him across her fan, "how do you like this country?"

"It has many attractions," Kit replied.

"But some drawbacks?"

"The drawbacks are not very obvious now."

"Ah," she said, giving him a mocking glance, "for an Englishman, you are polite, but it looks as if you were as cautious as I thought."

"I'm flattered that you thought about me at all." Kit rejoined.

She laughed and played with her fan. "Oh, well; we are curious about strangers, particularly when they are friends of the president's. One wonders why they come."

"I imagine most of us come to get money."

"In this country, one gets nothing unless one runs some risk, and you are cautious," Francisca remarked.

Kit noted her insistence on this trait of his. He thought her remarks had a meaning that did not appear on the surface.

"I wonder what grounds you have for thinking so," he said.

"Are they not obvious?" she answered. "Not long since you hesitated to pick up a sprig of heliotrope."

"I durst not think the compliment was meant for me."

Francisca glanced at him with quiet amusement. "You are modest, seÑor; it looks as if you had a number of virtues. For one thing, I imagine you are honest, and honesty is not very common here." She paused and resumed in a meaning tone: "It is a drawback, if one wants to get rich."

"I don't know that my character is worth your study," Kit replied carelessly.

"You are of some importance, seÑor. Although I have admitted that you are modest, it is strange you do not know."

"Why should I know?" Kit asked.

Francisca studied him over her ebony fan, which hid half her face and emphasized the curious glow of her black eyes. "I do not think you are as dull as you pretend. Have you not been experimented on recently?"

"I think I have," said Kit. "After all, a gold onza is not a great temptation. I found another—a spray of heliotrope—harder to resist."

"But you did resist!" she replied in a quiet voice.

"Yes," said Kit, fixing his eyes on her face. "I am an adventurer like the rest, but it is rather a shabby thing to try to gain an advantage in a battle with a woman. Besides, as I'm not clever, I might have failed."

With a languid movement of her head Francisca looked round and Kit imagined she saw the others were too far off to hear. Then she made him a half mocking bow.

"We need not quarrel, seÑor, and I will give you a hint. Since you are incorruptible, this town is not the place for you. Strangers from the North sometimes get fever. And I would not like you to suffer because you are honest, and have chosen the losing side."

"Ah," said Kit, "you think our side will lose?"

Francisca moved her fan, as if to indicate Galdar, who stood in the moonlight near the fountain. He was smiling urbanely and a number of men and women had gathered about him. Kit knew they were people of importance. At the end of the patio, the president stood alone in the advancing gloom.

"You see!" she said. "Well, I am engaged for the next dance. You have my leave to go."

Kit left her and sat down in a quiet spot. On the whole, he thought the president's antagonists had been foolish when they tried to use the girl; she was, so to speak, too good, and perhaps too proud, for the part they expected her to play. This, however, was not important; he imagined she had meant well when she gave him a hint, although the hint was not worth much, because Kit thought Adam saw how things were going. Then he reflected with some amusement that he need not bother much about deceiving the enemy, since Galdar's friends would not suspect that Buccaneer Askew had knowingly chosen the losing side.

Presently Kit joined Adam, who sat near a lamp. His face was damp and looked pinched.

"Let's go and get a drink," he said. "I'm thirsty; got a dose of intermittent fever again."

Some tables behind the pillars were laid out with wine and fruit, and
Adam beckoned a mulatto waiter.

"Tinto and siphon. Bring some ice."

"There is no siphon, seÑor. We have sherry, vermouth, and some very good anisado."

"You have plenty siphon" Adam declared. "Go and look."

The waiter went away and Adam frowned. "I can't stand for their scented liquors; I want a long, cool drink."

After a few minutes, the waiter came back with a large glass, in which a lump of ice floated in red wine and mineral water. Adam, sending him away, remarked: "That's a stupid fellow. I wanted to mix the stuff myself."

He drank thirstily and put down the glass.

"Tastes bitter; too much resin in the wine, or perhaps it's imagination."
He lifted the glass but stopped and threw the rest of the liquor on the
pavement. "Reckon I've had enough. About the meanest drink I've struck.
Give me a cigar. The taste stops in my mouth."

Kit gave him a cigar, but after a few minutes he threw it away.

"I don't feel much better and think I'll go to my room. You might come along; the stairs are steep."

He got up awkwardly and leaned upon the table, breathing rather hard while big drops of sweat started from his forehead. "This confounded ague grips me tight. Don't know when I've felt so shaky. Better give me your arm."

They started, and keeping in the shadow, reached the outside stairs without exciting much curiosity, but Kit felt disturbed. Adam went up slowly, stopping now and then, and stumbled across the balcony at the top. Bright moonlight shone into the bare room, where a small lamp burned, and Kit saw that Adam's face was wet.

"Leave me alone," he said. "You can come back by and by and see how I'm getting on."

Kit did not want to go, but gave way when Adam insisted. He met the president soon afterwards.

"Where is Don Adam?" the latter asked.

Kit told him and added that his uncle had seemed to get worse after drinking some wine.

"Ah," said Alvarez thoughtfully. "Fresh lime-juice is better when one is feverish. Did he drink anything else?"

"No," said Kit. "The waiter wanted to bring some anisado, but he insisted on the wine."

Alvarez took him to the table where the refreshments were served and clapped his hands. A waiter came up, but Kit said, "That is not the boy."

"Where are your companions?" the president asked.

"One is washing the glasses, seÑor. I do not know where the other has gone."

Alvarez opened a door and Kit saw a man putting small copitas into a pail.

"It was another fellow who brought the wine," he said, and Alvarez beckoned the waiter.

"Call the mayor-domo."

A man dressed in plain black clothes came in, and Alvarez asked: "How many of these fellows did you send to serve the wine?"

"Two, seÑor. It was enough."

"Three came. It will be your business to find the third," said the president sternly and turned to Kit. "What was the fellow like?"

Kit described the waiter and Alvarez said to the mayor-domo, "You will be held accountable if the man has got away. Send Doctor Martin to the bottom of the stairs."

The mayor-domo went away and Alvarez knitted his brows.

"Galdar's friends are bold, but I had not expected this. However, Don
Adam's drinking wine may have balked them and Martin is a good doctor."

Kit asked no questions, for he could trust the president and thought there was no time to lose. They crossed the patio and found a man waiting in the shadow at the bottom of the steps. Alvarez said a word or two and they went up. When they entered the room Adam glanced up from the bed.

"I see you have brought the doctor," he said with an effort.

"In this country, one takes precautions," Alvarez replied. "You look ill, my friend."

"I'd have looked worse if I'd drunk anisado," Adam remarked. "Anyhow, you had better light out and let SeÑor Martin get to work."

The doctor, who felt Adam's pulse, made a sign of agreement, and then writing on a leaf of his pocketbook gave it to the president.

"Will you send that to my house? I need the things at once."

Alvarez moved away and Adam looked at Kit with a forced smile. "You needn't be anxious, partner. I didn't drink all the wine; reckon they haven't got me yet."

Then they went out and left Adam with the doctor.