"This way, come on," he said in a hoarse whisper. I didn't see any reason to refuse under the circumstances. I stepped past the barrels and ducked through the low doorway. As the man closed the door, I slipped the gun back into its clip. I was standing in a damp stone-lined tunnel, lit by an electric lantern sitting on the floor. I stood with my back to it. I didn't want him to see my face yet, not in a good light. "Who are you?" I asked. The fellow pushed past me and picked up his lantern. He hardly glanced at me. "I'm just a dumb guy," he said. "I don't ask no questions, I don't answer none. Come on." I couldn't afford to argue the point so I followed him. We made our way along the hand-hewn corridor, then down a twisting flight of steps, to emerge into a dark windowless chamber. Two men and a dark-haired girl sat around a battered table where a candle spluttered. "Call them in, Miche," my guide said. "Here's the pigeon." Miche lolled back in his chair and motioned me toward him. He picked up what looked like a letter-knife from the table and probed between two back teeth while he squinted at me. I made a point not to get too close. "One of the kennel dogs, by the uniform," he said. "What's the matter, you bit the hand that fed you?" He laughed humorously. I said nothing. I thought I'd give him a chance to tell me something first if he felt like it. "A ranker, too, by the braid," he said. "Well, they'll wonder where you got to." His tone changed. "Let's have the story," he said. "Why are you on the run?" "Don't let the suit bother you," I said. "I borrowed it. But it seemed like the people up there disliked me on sight." "Come on over here," the other man said. "Into the light." I couldn't put it off forever. I moved forward, right up to the table. Just to be sure they got the idea, I picked up the candle and held it by my face. Miche froze, knife point in his teeth. The girl started violently and crossed herself. The other man stared, fascinated. I'd gone over pretty big. I put the candle back on the table and sat down casually in the empty chair. "Maybe you can tell me," I said, "why they didn't buy it." The second man spoke. "You just walked in like that, sprung it on them?" I nodded. He and Miche looked at each other. "You got a very valuable property here, my friend," the man said. "But you need a little help. Chica, bring wine for our new friend here." The girl, still wide-eyed, scuttled to a dingy cupboard and fumbled for a bottle, looking at me over her shoulder. "Look at him sitting there, Gros," Miche said. "Now that's something." "You're right that's something," Gros said. "If it isn't already loused up." He leaned across the table. "Now just what happened upstairs?" he said. "How long have you been in the palace? How many have seen you?" I gave them a brief outline, leaving out my mode of arrival. They seemed satisfied.