Harding nodded, though he was not pleased to notice that the officer’s dark eyes wandered round the patio and as though in search of somebody. “She will be gratified to hear of your inquiry,” he said. “We are going back now, and there is a kindness you could do me. I am taking two new servants to the San Cristoval sugar mill, and you may have troops or pickets who would stop us on the road.” Morales tore a slip from a little pad he took from his pocket, scribbled across it, and handed it to Harding. “If you are questioned show them that,” he said. “When you desire any other service I am at your command.” Harding took the paper and told his driver to get the mules out, while ten minutes after he and his daughter left the hotel he bade the man pull up beside two figures standing in the road. They got into the carriage when he signed to them. “If you had waited a little longer you might have met Morales face to face, Mr. Broughton, and that foot of yours would probably have convicted a more innocent man,” he said. “As it is, I have a pass from him that will prevent anybody worrying you until we reach San Cristoval.” Then the driver flicked the mules, and they rolled swiftly forward into the soft darkness that now hid the cane and dimmed the long white road. XI — THE ALCALDE’S BALL CYRUS HARDING thoroughly understood the importance of trifles, and possessed a quick insight, which went far to insure the success of whatever he took in hand. It was because of this he picked Appleby and Harper up by the roadside in place of driving away with them from the “Golden Fleece,” and seized the opportunity of obtaining a pass from Colonel Morales. The driver was in his service, and Harding had discovered one or two facts concerning him which rendered a hint that his silence would be advisable tolerably effective. Thus no questions were asked them when they were twice stopped by a patrol, and skirting Santa Marta in the darkness they reached the San Cristoval hacienda without attracting undesirable attention.