notes with an amiable grin. “You will feel nothing, señor—we promise you that,” he said wondering, perhaps, why the prisoner did not bestow the largesse at once. [Pg 23] [Pg 23] “Excellent! Lead on, friend! I want my last few minutes to myself.” “There are some documents to complete,” put in Steinbaum hastily, with a quick hand-flourish to the notary. Señor Porilla spread two legal-looking parchments on the table. “These are conveyances of your property to your wife,” he explained. “I am instructed to see that everything is done in accordance with the laws of the Republic. By these deeds you—” “Hand over everything to the lady. Is that it? I understand. Where do I sign? Here? Thank you. And here? Nothing else ... Mrs. Maseden, I have given you my name and all my worldly goods. Pray make good use of both endowments.... Now, I demand to be left alone.” Without so much as a farewell glance at his wife, who, to keep herself from falling, was leaning on the table, he strode off in the direction of the corridor into which his cell opened. It was a vital part of his scheme that he should enter first. The jailer would have left the door open. Maseden was determined that it should be closed. Captain Gomez’s tight boots pinched his toes cruelly as he walked, but he recked little of that [Pg 24]minor inconvenience at the moment. In four or five rapid paces he reached the doorway and passed through it. There he turned with his right hand on the door itself, and his left hand, carrying the helmet, raised in a parting salute. He smiled most affably, and, of set purpose, spoke in Spanish. [Pg 24] “Good-by, señora!” he said. “Farewell, gentlemen! I shall remember this pleasant gathering as long as I live!” The half-caste was at his prisoner’s side, and enjoying the episode thoroughly. He would swill his share of the wine, of course, and the hour of the siesta should find him comfortably drunk.
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