A few moments suffice the ruined gamblers for their slight matutinal repast. After which, a decanter of Catalonian brandy and glasses are placed upon the table, with a bundle of Manilla cheroots, size number one.
While the glasses are being filled, and the cigars lighted, there is silence. Then Calderon calls upon his guest to impart the particulars of that visionary revelation, which promises to give them, at the same time, riches and revenge.
Taking a sip of the potent spirit, and a puff or two at his cigar, De Lara responds to the call. But first leaning across the table, and looking his confederate straight in the face, he asks, in an odd fashion—
“Are you a bankrupt, Faustino Calderon?”
“Of course I am. Why do you put the question?”
“Because I want to be sure, before making known to you the scheme I’ve hinted at. As I’ve told you, I’m after no child’s play. I ask again, are you a bankrupt?”
“And I answer you I am. But what has that to do with it?”
“A good deal. Never mind. You are one? You assure me of it?”
“I do. I’m as poor as yourself, if not poorer, after last night’s losses. I’d embarked all my money in the Monté concern.”
“But you have something besides money? This house and your lands?”