Vasco’s immediate request was that I would lend him some money--about five hundred pounds--but he freely admitted that even if I consented, the money would not free him from Sampayo. I sent him a note at once that I would do what he wanted and would have the money ready for him if he would come to me the following evening. But I made it a condition that he should go on board the _Stella_ at once and remain there until the time for our interview. I did not mean to give Sampayo a chance of frightening him into admitting he had told me. I told Bryant to put the letter into Vasco’s own hands and to go with him to the yacht, and I wrote a line to my skipper with instructions. It proved to be a prudent precaution. Sampayo returned about midday and as I found out afterwards went everywhere in search of Vasco, before going to his own quarters, where I was waiting. He had learnt meanwhile that his attempt against me had failed, but he was genuinely surprised to see me when he entered. “This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Donnington,” he said. “I am sure of the unexpectedness,” I replied drily, taking no notice of the offer of his hand. He drew himself up stiffly. “Am I to understand that your refusal of my hand is intentional?” “Am I to understand on my side that you made the offer of it from any feeling of friendship?” “That is a very extraordinary question.” “It is not altogether an ordinary visit, Major Sampayo. It has more to do with business of a sort than friendship. I am right in thinking you do not feel very well disposed to me.” “Oh, really I have no time just now for talk of that kind. I have been away from the city and have a great press of matters to attend to. Be good enough to state your business briefly.” He said this in a very curt sharp tone and he crossed to a writing desk, unlocked it and began to turn over some papers. I made no reply, but leant back in my chair and lighted a cigar. My silence worried him. He kept up a pretence of being very busy, opening a letter or two and making some notes as if ignoring my presence. Then under the pretence of fetching a book, he rose and assumed surprise to find me still in the room. “Oh, are you still here?” “Yes, still here, as you see--waiting.” “Your conduct is very extraordinary. You are trying my courtesy to the utmost limit.” “On the contrary, I am only waiting until you have time and inclination to give me undivided attention. By all means finish these pressing matters first.” “Well, then, state your business at once.” “It may take some time,” I said with an apologetic smile. I could not resist the pleasure of playing with him a little, as a punishment for his conduct. “If it has anything to do with the concessions you are after, you may spare me and yourself the waste of time in discussing them. I have decided to have nothing to do with the matter.” “Don’t you think I could persuade you to change your mind?”