"Great heavens, Darlington," exclaimed the major, "you are still as long-winded as when you first came out," and, before O'Rourke could accept the invitation for himself, he concluded, "of course O'Rourke will honour you, my boy." "Thank you, very much, it's awfully good of you chaps," stammered O'Rourke, disconcerted by the major's offhand manner. Darlington smiled reassuringly. "Don't let this old cock rattle you," he said, and patted Major Farrington affectionately on the shoulder. After dinner that night, in the palatial dining-room of the house occupied by the staff of the South American Cable Company, O'Rourke learned something of the major's past life. It was a sad and unedifying story. The major had been trained at West Point, and led his class in scholarship and drill, and had risen, with more than one distinction, to the rank of major. But all the while he had made his fight against drink, as well as the usual handicaps in the game of life. He had married a woman with wealth and position superior to his own, who had admired him for his soldierly qualities and fine appearance, and who, later, had been the first to desert him. Then followed the foreign consular appointments, the bitter and ever-increasing debaucheries, and at last the forced retirement from his country's service. Now he lived on a small allowance, sent him weekly, by his family. O'Rourke began to understand the old man's fretful and disconcerting moods. At a late hour the superintendent of the staff ushered O'Rourke to a big, cool room on the second floor. "Make this your home," he said, "and we'll let you in on the same footing as ourselves. Hemming occupied this room last. There is his bed; there is his hammock; and, by Jove, there are his slippers. You can have your traps brought up in the morning." Thus did Bertram St. Ives O'Rourke become an inmate of an imposing mansion in Pernambuco, with moderate charges to pay and good company to enliven his hours. CHAPTER VI. CUDDLEHEAD DECIDES ON AN ADVENTURE Toward noon of a stifling day, the major and Mr. Cuddlehead met in the square by the waterfront. Cuddlehead greeted the major affably. As the major was very thirsty he returned the salutation. A glance through the door at his elbow displayed, to Mr. Cuddlehead's uncertain eyes, a number of round tables with chairs about them. He took out his watch and examined it. "Eleven-thirty--I always take something at half-past eleven. I hope you will join me," he said. "I seldom drink before lunch," replied Farrington, "but as this is an exceptionally dry day--" They passed through the doorway and sat down at the nearest table.