"Yes, against Balmaceda," he replied. "I wonder whether the old villain really died, and if so what became of his money."
"That is a question one would like to have settled concerning a good many people," Glenbarth put in.
"There was that man up in the Central States, the Republic of—ah! what was its name?—Equinata," said Nikola. "I don't know whether you remember the story."
"Do you mean the fellow who shot those unfortunate young men?" I asked. "The man you were telling me of the other night."
"The same," Nikola replied. "Well, he managed to fly his country, taking with him something like two million dollars. From that moment he has never been heard of, and as a matter of fact I do not suppose he ever will be. After all, luck has a great deal to do with things in this world."
"Permit me to pour out a libation to the God of Chance," said Martinos. "He has served me well."
"I think we can all subscribe to that," said Nikola. "You, Sir Richard, would not be the happy man you are had it not been for a stroke of good fortune which shipwrecked you on one island in the Pacific instead of another. You, my dear Duke, would certainly have been drowned in Bournemouth Bay had not our friend Hatteras chanced to be an early riser, and to have taken a certain cruise before breakfast; while you, Don Martinos, would in all probability not be my guest to-night had not——"
The Spaniard looked sharply at him as if he feared what he was about to hear.
"Had not what happened?" he asked.
"Had President Balmaceda won his day," was the quiet reply. "He did not do so, however, and so we four sit here to-night. Certainly, a libation to the God of Chance."