“Look you here,” said Biglow, as he regarded the young Englishman with his large serious-looking eyes. “It’s coming along any moment now; the Cacaos are only awaiting the signal to blaze this town to the ground and shoot every one who happens to get in the way. Savvy?”
The expression on Biglow’s face told Clensy that he meant what he said.
“Can it be possible, in these enlightened times, too?”
“It can!” said Biglow quietly, as he stared at our hero for a moment as though in some hesitation; then he leaned forward and said: “I’ve been doing a bit of gun-running for both sides, the legal authorities and the rebels too, and you’ve been seen with me, and that means that they would shoot you at sight to settle their doubts—if they had any!”
“Thank you, Mr. Bartholomew Biglow,” said Clensy.
Then the big man looked half sorrowfully at Clensy and said:
“Perhaps I ought to have warned you that I was dangerous company. Anyhow, our only chance of safety is getting away from here by steamer if a rising does take place.”
“I’ll see you both again later,” replied Clensy, and before the two men could look round he had vanished.
It was still daylight when Clensy arrived back at his apartments. He had made up his mind to go straight to the palace and warn Sestrina of her danger, and, if possible, get her to fly with him from the palace without further delay. Just as he was getting ready to leave his rooms and go out, his landlady, a creole woman, tapped at his door.
“Some one like to zee yous, Anglesman,” she said.