There was nothing remarkable in what he said, and his voice never for a second rose above its customary pitch. Nevertheless, I looked at him in overwhelming astonishment. It seemed to me his words were spoken with a deliberate intent, and were meant to have a definite value placed upon them. It was not the first time I had had the impression forced upon me, and it was not a pleasant one, I can assure you, that he had become aware of the real reason for my presence in Equinata. I hastened to abandon the subject of the sea, and directed the conversation into another channel. The result, however, was very much the same. We thereupon discussed the possibilities of a European war, which at that moment seemed not improbable.
"Power," he returned, à propos of a remark of mine, "is in my opinion precisely a question of temperament. Your London crowd is well trained and will stand what would drive a Neapolitan or a French mob to violence. Such speeches are delivered in your parks on Sundays as would prove in these latitudes as intoxicating as brandy. I have known a Revolution started by an ill-timed jest, a city wrecked, and a thousand lives lost in consequence. Talking of Revolutions, have you ever had the misfortune to be called upon to take part in one?"
Once more my suspicions were aroused.
"Good gracious, no!" I cried. "What makes you ask me such a question? Do I look like the sort of person who would be likely to have to do with such affairs?"
He glanced at me for a moment over the top of the cigar which he had taken from his mouth and was holding between his long slim fingers, as if to enjoy the beautiful aroma.
"I was merely venturing an inquiry," he continued, in the same quiet fashion as before. "If you have not, you should try the experiment. Believe me, there is a very fair amount of excitement to be got out of it, particularly if you have not the good fortune to be on the winning side. You have met Don Guzman de Silvestre, of course?"
"Don Guzman de who?" I asked, as if I had not quite caught the name.
"My predecessor," the President replied. "I thought that probably you might have come across him in your travels. He knocks about the Continent a good deal, and I am told he is well known at the various ports at which the mail-boats touch."
The situation was momentarily getting beyond me. I felt that I could not stand much more of it. He had referred to the Pernambuco, and had recommended me to try my hand at a Revolution; he had mentioned Don Guzman de Silvestre, and now he was speaking of the ports at which the South American mail-boats call, and implying that I was familiar with them. What did it all mean? Was it only a matter of chance, or was he aware of my identity, and only biding his time to rise and upset all my calculations? I think you will agree with me in saying that it was not a pleasant position for a man to be placed in!
"I remember," he went on, "on one occasion smoking a cigar with Don Guzman de Silvestre in this very balcony—he was sitting exactly where you are now. Though he thought I was not aware of it, I happened to know that he was at that time hatching a plot that he hoped would upset my calculations, turn me out of my palace, and make him President in my stead. He had been laying his plans for months, and was quite sure that they would succeed!"