"I have come," he said casually, "to request that I be sent to The Master. I believe that he is anxious to meet me." The dark eyes scrutinized him coldly. Then Francia smiled. "_Pero si_," he said negligently, "he is very anxious to see you. I suppose you know what fate awaits you?" His smile was amiable and apparently quite friendly, but Bell shrugged. "I suppose," he said dryly, "he wants to converse with me. I have been his most successful opponent to date, I think." Francia smiled again. It was curious how his smile, which at first seemed so genuine and so friendly, became unspeakably unpleasant on its repetition. "Yes." Francia seemed to debate some matter of no great importance. "You have been very annoying, Senor Bell. The Senhor Ribiera asked that you be sent to him. It was his intention to execute you, privately. He described a rather amusing method to me. And I must confess that you have annoyed me, likewise. Since the Cuyaba plantation was destroyed my subjects have been much upset. They have been frightened, and even stubborn. Only last week"--he smiled pleasantly, and the effect was horrible--"only last week I desired the society of a lady who is my subject. And her husband considered that, since the _fazenda_ was destroyed, The Master would be powerless to extend his grace before long, in any event. So he shot his wife and himself. It annoyed me enough to make me feel that it would be a pleasure to kill you." * * * * * He raised the revolver meditatively. "Well?" said Bell coldly. Francia lowered the weapon and laughed. "Oh, I shall not do it. I think The Master would be displeased. You seem to have the type of courage he most desires in his deputies. And it may yet be that I shall greet you as my fellow deputy or perhaps my fellow viceroy. So I shall send you to him. I would say that you have about an even chance of dying very unpleasantly or of being a deputy. Therefore I offer you such courtesies as I may." Bell puffed a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "I'm about out of cigarettes," he said mildly. "They shall be supplied. And--er--if you would desire feminine society, I will have some of my pretty subjects...." "No," said Bell bluntly. "I would like to speak to the Senhorina Canalejas, though." Francia chuckled. "She left for Buenos Aires last night. The Senhor Ribiera sent a most impatient message for her to be sent on at once. I regretted it, but he had The Master's authority. I thought her charming, myself." The skin about Bell's knuckles was white. His hands had clenched savagely. "In that event," he said coldly, "the only other courtesy I would ask is that of following her as soon as possible." Francia rose languidly. The revolver dangled by his side, but his grip upon it was firm. He smiled at Bell with the same effect of a horrible, ghastly geniality.