"Pull that lamp a little closer, Hal, old boy," he said. "That's it. Now lift the shade, that I may get a better look at these two—these two rascals."
Hal did as he was asked, throwing a flood of light upon José d'Arousta and his accomplice.
"Señor, you are kind to us," said the former, in the calmest of calm voices, and with more than a suspicion of irony in his tones. "A strong light never did the gay d'Arousta harm. On the contrary, he has been told that it improves him."
He laughed, and, jerking his wide-brimmed hat backward, turned still more to the light, showing a handsome face, which would have been quite taking but for the color and vindictive flash of the eyes, and for the involuntary twitch of his lips, which even he, calm though he had forced himself to appear, could not entirely control.
"It is a pity, a thousand pities, José d'Arousta, that all your deeds cannot bear the light," said Mr. Brindle quietly. "I know them well, and you are aware of it. Rogue, sir, is written on your face—rogue, vagabond, and thief. What have you to say for yourself?"
"To say, señor? Merely that ill fortune has befallen me. But for this dolt here I should have succeeded, so that I have little more to say than that I regret my failure greatly, and think myself a fool that I did not burn the hacienda about your ears. But this young Englishman was too clever for me. It is the second time, and the last, I can assure you, señor, for José d'Arousta never forgets nor forgives, and never neglects to repay his debts in full."
"Exactly so," Mr. Brindle replied dryly. "It is the last time. Now, listen to me. A state of war has commenced in the island, and everything is disorganized. If I send you into Santiago, you will be set at liberty again, for your services will be required. Therefore I must take matters into my own hands, for men who make an unwarranted attack, and who kill my servants in cold blood, must take the consequences."
"Señor, you are scarcely wise," José replied, with unruffled calmness. "You mean, I understand, that you will shoot us. Ah, well! do so, and what will happen? In these lawless times my countrymen will retaliate, for the news is certain to reach their ears. That will be awkward, señor. On the other hand, you might set us at liberty, and profit yourself, for we will engage to leave you unmolested from this day onwards."
"You will engage? But what is the value of a promise from you?" asked Mr. Brindle, with a disdainful shrug of his shoulders.
"That you must decide for yourself," the Spaniard answered calmly.