"Here it is, Señor Taltavull. You'll share the contents with your two friends?"
"Yes," exclaimed the old man, stretching out his bony hands; "I have promised."
"Then there you are, Señor Taltavull," said the other quietly. He deliberately drew back the shutter, exposed the yellowy-green film to the full sun-glare, and flung it from him with a sideways jerk.
It flew circling to the anarchist's feet; and for a moment we were all so paralyzed with the action that no one spoke or moved. Sooner than share or surrender, the man had deliberately destroyed the Recipe for good and all.
The anarchist was first to act. Slowly I saw him raise his weapon, and as if fascinated I could not move to interrupt him. With a leathery grin of cruelty he had brought it to bear, and in another moment there would have been murder done. But at that instant a flash of something brown shot by, and Taltavull and his mount were bowled over amongst the palmettos.
A cavalry reinforcement had arrived. Haigh had cut loose another of the mules, and had deliberately ridden the old man down.
"It's an old polo trick," said he, with a pleased grin. "Useful when a man persistently crosses you; quite simple when you know it.—Good-afternoon, Mrs. Cromwell.—Afternoon, Juggins, dear boy. Let me congratulate you on drawing this game. I thought we were going to gather in the beans.—Eh, what's that?"
Taltavull was sitting up amongst the scrubs, and was shaking a trembling fist at the boat and snarling out the word "iconoclast."
"'Iconoclast' indeed. Faith, that's the pot libelling the kettle most unjustly.—I say, Cospatric, just take that melodramatic old fool's gun away from him, and wring his neck if he won't behave himself.—My dear Mrs. Cromwell, I must really apologize for our companion. I assure you that nothing but stress of circumstances could have driven us into such dubious society. Well, the fun's all over now, and I hope you and Mr. Pether bear no ill-will. I'm sure Cospatric and I harbour no grudge."
Mrs. Cromwell gave an order, the boat backed in to the shingle, and we found ourselves shaking hands with one another, as if we were dear friends who had always worked for one another's welfare.