THE HOODED KING
There was a certain Portuguese governor—this was in the days when Colhemos was Colonial Minister—who had a small legitimate income and an extravagant wife. This good lady had a villa at Cintra, a box at the Real Theatre de São Carlos, and a motor-car, and gave five o'clocks at the Hotel Nunes to the aristocracy and gentry who inhabited that spot, of whom the ecstatic Spaniard said, "dejar a Cintra, y ver al mundo entero, es, con verdad caminar en capuchera."
Since her husband's salary was exactly $66.50 weekly and the upkeep of the villa alone was twice that amount, it is not difficult to understand that Senhor Bonaventura was a remarkable man.
Colhemos came over to the Foreign Office in the Praco de Commercio one day and saw Dr. Sarabesta, and Sarabesta, who was both a republican and a sinner, was also ambitious, or he had a Plan and an Ideal—two very dangerous possessions for a politician, since they lead inevitably to change, than which nothing is more fatal to political systems.
"Colhemos," said the doctor dramatically, "you are ruining me! You are bringing me to the dust and covering me with the hatred and mistrust of the Powers!"
He folded his arms and rose starkly from the chair, his beard all a-bristle, his deep little eyes glaring.
"What is wrong, Baptisa?" asked Colhemos.
The other flung out his arms in an extravagant gesture.
"Ruin!" he cried somewhat inadequately.
He opened the leather portfolio which lay on the table and extracted six sheets of foolscap paper.