"Wot court?" demanded Coke sharply.
"The court that settles our claim, of course," retorted Verity, with a quick ferret look at his fellow-conspirator.
"There'll be no claim. The President means to stump up in style. You take my tip, an' shut up about courts," said Coke.
"It'll cost Brazil a tidy penny," remarked Bulmer thoughtfully. "Nobody would ever imagine wot bags of gold an' parcels of di'monds sailors an' firemen carry around in their kit-bags till a ship is lost an' a Gover'ment 'as to pay."
Watts deemed this an exquisite joke. He laughed loudly.
"That reminds me," he cried. "W'en the Gem of the Sea turned turtle on the James an' Mary——"
A criado, a nondescript man-servant attached to the household, stooped over Iris and whispered something. She gathered that she was wanted in the patèo, or court-yard, which, owing to the construction of the house, stood on one side instead of in front, where the lawn usurped its usual position.
"Who is it?" she asked.
The voice sank even lower.
"Colonel San Benavides, Senhora."