At that I burst out laughing. “Infer what you like and be hanged to you.”
“You may find this is no laughing matter, sir,” he cried, getting white with anger.
“And so may you, magistrate though you are. Kidnapping Englishmen is not a game your Government can play at with impunity, my friend.”
“I shall send for M. Volheno,” he said as he rose; “and in the meantime shall detain you here on my own responsibility.”
And with that he favoured me with a scowl and went out of the room, leaving me to speculate where I was going to finish the night.
The odds appeared to be in favour of a prison cell rather than my own bed.
CHAPTER X
A DRASTIC TEST
THE matter was obviously more serious than I had at first believed; and I realized that, as the authorities were aware that I knew Barosa and Inez were really revolutionaries, I might have some difficulty in convincing them that my knowledge had been innocently obtained. And two unpleasant possibilities loomed ahead.
This hot-headed magistrate, if left to himself, might pack me off to one of their prisons; and any one who has seen a Portuguese prison will understand my dread of such a step.
The condition of these dens of filth, wretchedness, and abomination is a black stain upon the Portuguese administration. Take the lowest and dirtiest type of the worst doss-house in London, multiply its foulest features ten times, overcrowd it with verminous brawling scum to two or three times the extent of what you would consider its utmost limit of accommodation, and stir up the whole with gaoler-bullies who have all graduated with the highest honours in the school of brutality and blackguardism; and you have a typical Portuguese gaol.