"Impossible! My signature would make me responsible to the President."
"You'll take a bigger responsibility if you refuse; the men I left waiting will begin the trouble if I'm not outside very soon. You haven't got your master's orders yet, and the liberators have headed his messenger off. I guess you'll have to answer for it if you spoil his plans. Remember you'll have to face a revolution unless you let Grahame out."
Gomez was silent for a few moments and then made a sign of acquiescence.
"Very well," he said, and pulling his chair to the table began to write. Then he gave Walthew the paper. "Are you satisfied?"
"Not quite," said Walthew, glancing over the message. "Ring for one of your men and send it off with this note." He handed both papers to Gomez. "Order him to deliver them at once!"
When the man came in, Walthew was sitting carelessly in a chair, as if nothing unusual had been going on. His right hand, however, was gripping the pistol in his jacket pocket.
"I'll wait here for five minutes to give him a start. Seems to me that would be safer," he said when the orderly had left them.
He was relieved when he thought he could get up, for the strain had been heavy, and he was feeling rather limp, but he walked steadily to the door and did not quicken his steps until he reached the stairs. It was with tingling nerves that he came to the outer gate; but the sentries let him pass, and when he had gone a short distance, three or four peons who were hanging about turned and followed him. He was outside in the friendly darkness, but he had still to leave the town.