"Wake up, you drunken hog!" he shouted; "wake up, and get to work." The colonel opened his eyes. "The ladies--they are gone. They went--long ago." He closed his eyes again. "You fool!" cried Penthouse, trembling with rage and disappointment, "you fool, didn't I tell you to put a guard on the boat, and to surround the house?" "The guard went--to Pedro's--to buy wine. I did not hear till to-day. I was angry," replied the Brazilian, in a faint and broken voice. "To buy wine," echoed the white man, in a tragic cry. Failure grinned at him again. Even in battle and murder he could not succeed. He almost found it in him to regret the vagrant, hungry days on the London streets, when he went up and down among familiar faces, tattered and disguised. He was at home there, at least, and knew the tricks of the place. But here, hunted by Hemming for a murderer, penniless, and among strangers,--Lord, one would be better dead. "Hemming must never get away from that house," he whispered to himself. The colonel snorted and choked in his heavy sleep. For a few minutes the broken Englishman looked at him intently. Then he walked over to a small table by the window. "There is still liquor that I don't have to pay for," he said, and lifted the bottle. Through the President's gardens and the streets of the little town, the troopers sauntered and smoked, awaiting further orders from their colonel for the undoing of the passive enemy. "The colonel and Señor Cuddlehead are closeted together," said a subaltern to a sergeant, "so before dark we shall have our money." "But the ladies have gone," replied the sergeant. "They went away in the President's steamer while the guard was shaking dice at Pedro's." "How do you know that?" argued the officer. "No one saw them go. Of course they keep away from the windows." "The General Hemming would see that we got our money, if the ladies were in any danger," said the other, conclusively. But the subaltern shook his head. "You don't know these fools of Englishmen as well as I do," he said. "They would rather have their own grandmothers shot than pay out any money." "But," retorted the sergeant, with a knowing look, "it is not the general's money we want, but the President's. He would force the old man to pay, if the ladies were in peril. No, the women have gone with the steamer, I am sure." "Englishmen are stubborn brutes," replied the officer, unconvinced, "and besides, my friend, this Hemming believes that with his own right arm he is able to defend the house against us. Also, my friend, why should he give us Tetson's money until we force him to? It may all be his some day."