Appleby, who heard a soft crunching under his comrade’s foot, glanced at him warningly. Harper’s eyes were glowing, and the fingers of one hand were tightly clenched, but meeting Appleby’s gaze he controlled himself.
“One would not presume to question the word of Colonel Morales,” said Appleby with rather more than a trace of irony. “In this case there was also the fact that your distinguished countrymen have already incurred a serious responsibility. Spain cannot afford to offer any unnecessary provocation to two other nations just now.”
The contempt in Morales’ little laugh was not assumed. “Pshaw! It is evident you do not understand the Castilians, Señor Appleby. One would almost fancy that you were trifling with me.”
“I am afraid you rate my courage too high,” said Appleby, who glanced at the clock. “It is, however, difficult to decide. The thing suggested was unpleasant, and you understand that one has prejudices. Perhaps that is because I have not lived very long in Cuba. Still, I admit that what we saw in the plaza was suggestive, but there is the difficulty that I cannot commit my comrade, who may have different notions.”
Once more Morales fixed his dark eyes upon him, and Appleby, who could feel his heart throbbing, wondered if he had blundered in not assuming at least a trace of anxiety. He fancied that Morales must suspect that there was something behind his indifferent attitude, but, tingling with suspense as he was, the role was very difficult to play. It was essential that he should lead the officer on with the hope of making terms until the guard was changed. The minute finger of the little clock scarcely seemed to move, while he could feel that the damp was beaded on his forehead.
Morales, however, laughed. “I fancy he could be left you. Still, I wished him to hear—that he should know whom he was indebted to in case we did not arrive at an understanding. Well, I will be frank. We will assume that the offer I made you is open still.”
Appleby stood silent for almost half a minute, which appeared interminable, feeling that Morales’ eyes never left his face. Then there was a tramp of feet in the patio, followed by a tread on the stairway, and it was only by strenuous effort that he retained his immobility. The guard was being changed a minute or two earlier than he had expected.
A voice rose from outside, somebody tapped at the door and Morales appeared to check an exclamation of impatience when a man came in. He was dressed immaculately in white linen and spotless duck, and carried a costly Panama hat in his hand.
“With many excuses, señor, I venture to do myself this honor,” he said. “You may remember you were once pleased to express your approbation of my poor tobacco.”
Appleby contrived to smile, though it cost him an effort, but Harper gasped, and there was for a moment a silence they both found it difficult to bear. Appleby in the meanwhile saw the gleam in Morales’ eyes, but was quite aware that a Castilian gentleman rates his own dignity too highly to consider it necessary to impress it upon every stranger.