Appleby stood silent for almost half a minute, which appeared interminable, feeling that Morales’ eyes never left his face. Then there was a tramp of feet in the patio, followed by a tread on the stairway, and it was only by strenuous effort that he retained his immobility. The guard was being changed a minute or two earlier than he had expected. A voice rose from outside, somebody tapped at the door and Morales appeared to check an exclamation of impatience when a man came in. He was dressed immaculately in white linen and spotless duck, and carried a costly Panama hat in his hand. “With many excuses, señor, I venture to do myself this honor,” he said. “You may remember you were once pleased to express your approbation of my poor tobacco.” Appleby contrived to smile, though it cost him an effort, but Harper gasped, and there was for a moment a silence they both found it difficult to bear. Appleby in the meanwhile saw the gleam in Morales’ eyes, but was quite aware that a Castilian gentleman rates his own dignity too highly to consider it necessary to impress it upon every stranger. “It is an intrusion,” he said quietly. “I do not understand why the sentries admitted you.” The tobacco merchant made a little deprecatory gesture, and Appleby felt his hands tremble as he watched the man move a step nearer the officer’s chair. “It was not their fault. I slipped by when the guard was changed,” he said. “One would make excuses for such boldness, but you understand the necessities of business. Now, I have here examples of a most excellent tobacco.” Morales turned, apparently to summon one of the guards. “Still, the man who let you pass will be sorry!” Then there was a little click‐clack that sounded horribly distinct, and as he swung round again a pistol glinted in the tobacco merchant’s hand. “Señor,” said the latter, “it would be advisable to sit very still.” Morales became suddenly rigid, but his eyes were very steady as he glanced at the stranger. “One begins to understand,” he said. “Are you not, however, a little indiscreet, señor? There is a guard scarcely thirty feet away. A sound also travels far in this building.” The tobacco merchant laughed. “Will you open the door, Señor Harper, that Colonel Morales may see his guard?” Harper rose, and when he flung the door open the sentry was revealed. He stood in the corridor gazing into the lighted room, but though the situation must have been evident to him, his face was expressionless, and his erect figure showed motionless against the shadow behind him. Then for just a moment a flush of darker color swept into Morales’ olive cheek, and Appleby fancied that he winced. “That man is taking a heavy risk,” he said. “There is a half‐company of his comrades in the cuartel.” The tobacco merchant smiled. “Then one would fancy, señor, that some of them had mutinied.”