“‘Ah, my friend, it is very sad. No, I have simply come down with my commando, which you see across the square. I return to-morrow, leaving the troop in the fortress yonder, as the present garrison was considered insufficient to guard the desperate political prisoners confined there.’
“It struck me that this was rather a tribute to the respect entertained for Rosenthal by Trocas.
“‘Indeed?’ said I, somewhat idly.
“He sighed. ‘It is a tedious journey, but I requested General Trocas to commit the care of the men to me, as I expected to find here a friend’—he smirked at me—‘a lady in whom I am interested.’
“I laughed indulgently. ‘You young officers are roving blades,’ said I. ‘One cannot blame the ladies, however.’
“He brightened, then sighed again. ‘It is very sad,’ said he. ‘I learn from the keeper of the hotel that she has sailed for Curaçao on the steamer before this. She was very beautiful, a Portuguese.’ He twirled his thin mustache.
“‘Permit me to offer my sympathy,’ said I. ‘But, of course, there is still wine left, if the lady has gone,’ and I ordered another bottle of champagne.
“Before the bottle was finished, Doctor, he loved me as a brother. I suggested that we go aboard the Dutch ship and have an American cocktail. It was a little dangerous, but I wished to clinch his confidence in me. He readily agreed and we strolled across the square together. On the way we passed his command, which was what I wished. The men were still drinking, but the sergeant was outside the café and saluted as we passed.
“‘A good fellow—he knows my errand,’ observed the lieutenant, referring to the sergeant, and added that there was no hurry to cross to the fortress; it was a place stiflingly hot, and his men were in need of rest and a little refreshment.
“‘You are, of course, acquainted with the officers of the garrison?’ said I.