Fuentes eased his revolver slightly in its holster. “You have a great deal to say for yourself, haven’t you?” he said. “I should be careful how you choose your words.”
Quentin walked across to Myra’s door and knocked. She came immediately, and stood looking first at him and then at the little General.
Quentin said: “I’m afraid you will have to alter your plans, Miss Arnold. This is General Fuentes of the President’s Army. He has just told me that all Americans in this building are under arrest and are not at liberty to leave. He has made it quite plain that should they do so, they will be shot.”
Fuentes had been looking at Myra steadily. He made no attempt to disguise his admiration. He drew himself up and bowed. “I am exceedingly sorry that I must insist on you remaining in the hotel, senorita, but I shall be delighted to offer my services as host, if you will permit me. I understand the hotel is short of food, and I have plenty. It would afford me great pleasure if you took your meals with me.”
Myra moved her head slightly, bringing the General in line with her vision. She studied him, her blue eyes slowly growing cold and her mouth hardening, but before she could speak, Quentin said gently: “I think that is generous of you, General, but Miss Arnold is in my charge. We are fortunate to have a stock of food, and she has her meals with us.”
Fuentes smiled. He looked genuinely amused. “I am busy now,” he said, “there is much to be done. When I have a little spare time, I shall ask the senorita again.” He bowed, then added, “It would be absurd to refuse.” He turned on his heel and stalked down the passage. The two soldiers followed him and took up positions at the head of the stairs.
Quentin pulled a face. “I’m afraid that guy is going to be difficult,” he said.
Myra said: “But can’t we phone to the consul? Surely we can’t be held long!”
“We couldn’t get any calls through,” Quentin returned. “No doubt he has a man on the switchboard. I think, Miss Arnold, it would be safer for you if you came over and joined us in the other room.”
Myra picked up a little white satin handbag. “I’m afraid I’m being a fearful nuisance,” she said; “it is very kind of you to bother with me.”