After a brief wait in a large but meagrely furnished chamber, an old man—or a middle-aged one, with a look of age—entered, and, with a profusion of ceremonial, in which he assured me that his house, his wife, his oxen, his mules, his asses, and in fact everything “that was his,” stood at my disposal, asked to what fortunate event he owed the honor of my visit.
“I am the representative, Señhor Xafire,” said I, “of the great house of Cregan and Company, of which doubtless you have heard, whose ships walk the waters of the icy seas, and lay at anchor amid the perfumes of the spice islands, and whose traffic unites two hemispheres.”
“May they always be prosperous!” said the polite Spaniard, bowing.
“They have hitherto enjoyed that blessing,” responded I, almost thankfully. “Even as the youngest member of the firm, I have nothing to complain of on the score of prosperity.” I smiled, took forth a most gorgeous snuff-box, all glittering with brilliants, and, presenting it to the Spaniard, laid it carelessly on the table. After a brief pause, to let the splendor settle down into his heart, I proceeded to inform him that in the course of commercial transactions a vast number of bills, receipts for deposits and other securities, had fallen into our hands, upon many of which we had advanced large sums, seeing that they bore the name of that most respectable house, the Bank of Don Xafire, of Guajuaqualla. “These would,” I added, “have been dispersed through the various channels of trade, had it not been the wish of my partners to open distinct relations with your house, and consequently they have retained the papers until a favorable occasion presented itself of personally making the proposition. This happy opportunity has arisen by our recent purchase of the great gold mines of the 'Arguareche' for seventy millions of piastres, of which you may have read in the 'Faros de la Habanas.'”
He bowed a humble negative; and I went on to state that, our mining operations requiring co-operation and assistance, we desired to open relations with the great house of Don Xafire, whose good fame was well established on the 'Change of Liverpool.
“You spoke of paper securities and such like, Señhor; may I ask of what nature they are?”
“You shall see them, Don Xafire,” said I, opening a very magnificent pocket-book, and presenting first a receipt, dated forty-eight years back, for the sum of twelve thousand piastres in silver, and four bags, weighing two hundred and eighty pounds of gold dust, from the hands of Menelaus Crick, of the mines of Hajoras, near Guajuaqualla. The Spaniard's dark cheek trembled, and a faint tinge of sickly yellow seemed to replace the dusky olive of his tint, as he said, “This is but waste paper, Señhor, and I trust your excellent house has advanced nothing on its credit.”
“On the contrary, Señhor Banquiero,” responded I, “we have given the full sum, being much advised thereto by competent counsel.”
The battle was now opened, and the combat begun.
It is needless I should weary my reader by recapitulating the tissue of inventions in which, as in a garment, I wrapped myself. I saw quickly that if I was a rogue, so was my antagonist, and that for every stratagem I possessed, he was equally ready with another. At last, pushed hard by his evasions, equivocations, and subterfuges, I was driven to utter a shadowy kind of menace, in which I artfully contrived to mix the name of the General Santa Anna,—a word, in those days, of more than talismanic power.