Then Burroughs came up and I tried to think of other things; not very successfully at first. We returned to my rooms, and on the way Miralda’s eloquent smile, the thrilling pressure of her hand, the flush of tell-tale colour, and the proof of her trust, entangled my wits and made it difficult for me for a time to give coherent answers to the questions of my insistently curious companion. My object in securing Miralda’s promise to delay the delivery of the papers to Vasco was to enable me to make preparations to follow him myself, and I set about them the instant we reached my rooms. I had decided to use the Portuguese clothes which Simmons had obtained; and a few alterations in them together with a false moustache, the darkening of my eyebrows and the judicious application of a little picturesque dirt to my face and hands and clothes, so changed my appearance that even Miralda would have had difficulty in recognizing me. I arranged that Burroughs should follow me, to be at hand in case of need; that Simmons should go to the launch and Foster remain for the night with Bryant at the flat. It was dark when I reached the visconte’s house to wait for Vasco, and I had no fear that he would penetrate my disguise. There was one trouble I had to guard against--the danger of the streets. The fact that a man of my apparent position was lurking about in such a neighbourhood might easily attract the attention of the police, but I was saved from that embarrassment by Miralda’s punctuality. I had scarcely found a hiding-place when a carriage drove up and she and Inez alighted from it and entered the house. She had gone to Inez in order not to meet Vasco until the hour we had agreed. Three minutes afterwards he came out and hurried away at a rapid pace, and the spy work commenced in earnest. While we were in the quieter streets, I followed at just sufficient distance to keep him in sight; but when he turned into the Rua Sao Benito I hastened to close up, for fear of losing him in that somewhat busy street. As I hurried round the corner I nearly plumped into him. He stood looking about him, and I stopped and rolled a cigarette to fill the pause. It turned out that he was waiting for a tram-car, and when he boarded it I had no option but to risk discovery and follow him. He sat close to the door and I passed him, with my face averted, choosing a seat on the same side, but at the other end. He was in a condition of extreme nervous excitement and had been drinking freely, probably to drown his fears. He sat with his hands plunged in his pockets and took no notice of any one; and even when the other passengers got out at the Square of St. Paul, leaving him at one end of the long seat and me at the other with no one between us, he took no notice of me. I had now lost Burroughs, of course. He had hung behind until he had missed the car; but this was perhaps all the better. If he had been in the car, Vasco might have recognized him.