"It is a fact. I see you have the whole story. But how did you get it?"
"I'll tell you that later. First, just a question or two, if you don't mind, for I happen to be interested in the affair. How long ago did the fellow get away—or rather, when may the yacht, the Bella Cuba, be expected here, if at all?"
"She might come in to-morrow."
Loria gave a long sigh. He was lying back in a big easy-chair and sending out ring after ring of blue smoke, which he watched, as they disappeared, with half-shut eyes. One would have fancied him the embodiment of happy laziness, unless one had chanced to notice the tension of the fingers which grasped an arm of the chair.
"What will happen when she does come in?"
"Oh, trouble for me, and nothing to show for it."
"What do you mean?"—with a sudden change of tone.
"All I could do, I have done; which is to inform the Government authorities here that on board the expected yacht is a runaway forçat belonging to France, and ask that he be arrested on the yacht's arrival."
"And then?"
"Then a boat will go out to meet this Bella Cuba as she comes into the harbour, and she will be requested to give up the man. Her people will say that there's no such person there, and refuse to let any one on board."