Austin met his gaze steadily, though the flush was still in his face. "I scarcely think anybody would call me an enterprising business man, that is, at least, from the conventional English point of view."
Brown chuckled softly. "I believe you know as well as I do that a man of that kind would not be of the least use in Spain. They would drive him crazy, and he would probably have insulted half his clients past forgiveness before he had been a month among them. Now, you understand the Spaniards, and, what is as much to the purpose, they seem to like you."
Austin sat still, looking at him, and at last he saw that Brown's reserve was breaking down. His hands seemed to be trembling a little, and there were other signs of anxiety about him.
"I don't know why you have made me that offer, sir," he said. "There must be plenty of men more fitted to be the recipient of it."
"It is, at least, wholly unconditional," and Brown made a little gesture that curiously became him. "I may say that I had already satisfied myself about you, or I should never have made it."
"Then," said Austin, a trifle hoarsely, "I can only thank you—and endeavour to give you no cause for being sorry afterwards that you fixed on me."
They had a little more to say, but the nurse appeared during the course of it and informed Brown that the surgeon was coming to dress Austin's arm.
"Just a minute," said the latter. "Will you be kind enough to pass me that pad and pencil?"
She gave it to him, and he scribbled hastily, and then tore off the sheet and handed it to Brown.
"I wonder if that message meets with your approval, sir?" he said.