"There is no time like the present," I rejoined.
"Let us begin, then. And, since more money is in sight, there is no reason why I should not spend the little money that remains to me. You shall drink champagne with me, and we will smoke cigars."
And then and there, in the corner of the Bodega, while the men about us talked of the business of the Law Courts, and of the price of shares, Stromboli wafted me, in imagination, to the shores of the Pearl of the Antilles, and told me the story which I entitled—
THE SHORT SHRIFT OF THE FILIBUSTER.
"Voyons! Filibustering is an important branch of revolution. Though your motives be of the loftiest, yet, if the other side catch you at it, they will shoot you. The danger is the greater because you are generally on the weaker side, and therefore likely to be caught. It is a quick gamble for the heaviest of stakes. I know, for I have played the game. I have been a filibuster.
"It was in Cuba in the early seventies. The island was in revolt, and help was being sent to the rebels by the brave citizens of the United States. And one day, as I sipped my absinthe in the Café de Madrid, I was handed a telegram from New York, which ran as follows—
"'Offer you commission in Cuban Army. Start at once; begin as general. Rapid promotion if found satisfactory.'
"I thumped the table and showed the despatch to my companion.
"'To begin as general!' I cried. 'Is this a pleasantry at my expense, or is it not?'
"My companion, who was a man who had travelled widely, assured me that it was not.