“Enough, enough, my young friend,” said his companion, laying a hand for an instant on Vickers’s arm with an incomparable gesture. “Obstacles are for old heads, love for young ones. See, she glances in our direction. She perhaps guesses what is the only topic that would keep you from her. Go to her. I will not be cruel. Go to her.” And he turned away, waving his hand. Vickers sprang after him, but as he did so he felt his arm caught, and turning saw Doctor Nuñez. “I must see you alone for an instant, but at once,” he said, in a low tone. “More trouble!” said Vickers, leading the way to his old bedroom, which was the only spot in the house secure from the inroads of the party. He shut the door behind them, and invited the doctor to sit down, but Nuñez did not notice the suggestion. “I have just come from town,” he said. “Your immediate arrest is decided on. The police may be here in a few minutes.” “My arrest? Well, what the-- Why in thunder am I to be arrested?” “On suspicion of conspiring against the government. You are thought to have great influence with the men, which, taken in conjunction with your friendship for Cortez, makes you dangerous.” “Well, if that isn’t the darndest,” said Vickers. “I have not conspired against their old government.” “That, my dear Luis,” said the doctor gravely, “has nothing whatsoever to do with it. They are coming to arrest you. The mere presence of Cortez in the house will be enough. They can not arrest him without precipitating immediate trouble, but they can arrest any one who will be of assistance to him. It seems he has boasted openly that he could get all the ammunition he wanted from you. I do not say I believe it.” “I have just sent all the cartridges he wanted out to the _coche_ which is at this moment standing before my door,” said Vickers. “Then you must certainly go at once.” “Do you really advise me, Doctor, to run away from a couple of policemen with handcuffs and a warrant? No, no, I shall stay. My conscience is clear. I shall appeal to my own government. You know they can’t go about arresting innocent Americans without getting into trouble.” Nuñez raised his eyebrows. “And through whom will you appeal? Your American consul?” “I suppose so.” “And do you happen to remember the last time you saw Meester B. Wilkins Smith?” “Oh, thunder!” returned Vickers, “that was the time I dipped him in the San Pedro, for saying I cheated at cards. Well, he richly deserved it, Doctor. No one could deny that.” “Perhaps not,” returned the doctor, “but I do not think he will break his neck to save you. I think he will write home that it is unfortunate that a better type of Americans do not come down here. I think he will think it right to let our law take its course.” Vickers had begun to look grave, but at the word law his face brightened. “Ah, there you are,--law!” he cried. “They can not prove anything against me. They will not dare to ventilate their case in court.”