I was full of admiration. The scheme was very neat, and, as far as the President and myself were concerned, he had been no more than just in pointing out its advantages. As for the directors, they would probably get their interest; anyhow, they would get it for two years. There was risk, of course; a demand for evidence of my alleged investments, or a sudden order to realize a heavy sum at short notice, would bring the house about my ears. But I did not anticipate this _contretemps_, and at the worst I had my twenty thousand dollars and could make myself scarce therewith. These calculations were quite correct at the moment, but I upset them afterward by spending the dollars and by contracting a tie which made flight from Aureataland a distasteful alternative. "Well, Mr. Martin," said the President, "do you agree?" I still hesitated. Was it a moral scruple? Probably not, unless, indeed, prudence and morality are the same thing. The President rose and put his hand on my shoulder. "Better say yes. I might take it, you know, and cause you to disappear--believe me, with reluctance, Mr. Martin. It is true I shouldn't like this course. It would perhaps make my position here untenable. But not having the money would certainly make it untenable." I saw the force of this argument, and gulping down my brandy and soda, I said: "I can refuse your Excellency nothing." "Then take your hat and come along to the bank," said he. This was sharp work. "Your Excellency does not mean to take the money now--to-night?" I exclaimed. "Not to take, Mr. Martin--to receive it from you. We have made our bargain. What is the objection to carrying it out promptly?" "But I must have the bonds. They must be prepared, sir." "They are here," he said, taking a bundle from the drawer of a writing-table. "Three hundred thousand dollars, six per cent. stock, signed by myself, and countersigned by Don Antonio. Take your hat and come along." I did as I was bid. CHAPTER III. AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and Whittingham was looking her best as we made our way along the avenue leading to the Piazza 1871. The President walked briskly, silent but serene; I followed, the trouble in my mind reflected in a somewhat hang-dog air, and I was not much comforted when the President broke the stillness of the night by saying: "You have set your foot on the first rung of the ladder that leads to fame and wealth, Mr. Martin." I was rather afraid I had set it on the first rung of the ladder that leads to the gallows. But there the foot was; what the ladder turned out to be was in the hands of the gods; so I threw off care, and as we entered the Piazza I pointed to the statue and said: "Behold my inspiring example, your Excellency." "By Jove, yes!" he replied; "I make the most of my opportunities."