His voice sank almost to a whisper. "There's a plot to overthrow the government in California. I'm a part of it.... I don't know what to do."
"You don't mean ... you're a traitor?" she asked unbelievably.
"I suppose I am or must be--to some one," he said wearily. "I'm caught in a net, Mrs. Windham. Will you help me get out? Advise me ... as you did him. Oh, I know what you meant to Mr. Broderick. Your faith, your counsel!"
"Please," said Alice sharply. "We won't speak of that. What can I do for YOU?"
"I beg your pardon. I'm a thoughtless ass ... that's why I got into the pickle probably. They asked me to join...."
"They? Who?" she asked. "Is he--Benito--?"
"Oh, no, Benito's out of it completely. I'm a Southern boy, you know. That's why they let me in; a lot of them have money. A man we call 'The President' is our chief. And there's a committee of thirty, each of whom is pledged to organize a fighting force; a hundred men."
Waters hesitated. "I took an oath to keep this all a secret ... but I'll trust you, Mrs. Windham. You've got to know something about it.... These men are hired desperadoes or adventurers. They know there's fighting to be done; they've no scruples.... Meanwhile they're well paid, ostensibly engaged in various peaceful occupations all around the bay. When our President gives the order they'll be massed--three thousand of 'em; well armed, drilled--professional fighters. You can see what'll happen...."
"You mean they'll seize the forts ... deliver us to the enemy?" she spoke aghast.
"I'm afraid you're right, Mrs. Windham."