Sotillo, ensconced in the vast armchair, remarked, “I should have thought that the feelings of a caballero would have dictated to you an appropriate reply.”
He waited for it, but Captain Mitchell remaining mute, more from extreme resentment than from reasoned intention, Sotillo hesitated, glanced towards the doctor, who looked up and nodded, then went on with a slight effort—
“Here, Senor Mitchell, is your watch. Learn how hasty and unjust has been your judgment of my patriotic soldiers.”
Lying back in his seat, he extended his arm over the table and pushed the watch away slightly. Captain Mitchell walked up with undisguised eagerness, put it to his ear, then slipped it into his pocket coolly.
Sotillo seemed to overcome an immense reluctance. Again he looked aside at the doctor, who stared at him unwinkingly.
But as Captain Mitchell was turning away, without as much as a nod or a glance, he hastened to say—
“You may go and wait downstairs for the senor doctor, whom I am going to liberate, too. You foreigners are insignificant, to my mind.”
He forced a slight, discordant laugh out of himself, while Captain Mitchell, for the first time, looked at him with some interest.
“The law shall take note later on of your transgressions,” Sotillo hurried on. “But as for me, you can live free, unguarded, unobserved. Do you hear, Senor Mitchell? You may depart to your affairs. You are beneath my notice. My attention is claimed by matters of the very highest importance.”
Captain Mitchell was very nearly provoked to an answer. It displeased him to be liberated insultingly; but want of sleep, prolonged anxieties, a profound disappointment with the fatal ending of the silver-saving business weighed upon his spirits. It was as much as he could do to conceal his uneasiness, not about himself perhaps, but about things in general. It occurred to him distinctly that something underhand was going on. As he went out he ignored the doctor pointedly.