“It has an old, familiar sound, but crack along.”
“My father, being human, erred. He trusted one Pablo Sarros, an educated peon, who had commanded the government forces under the regime my father overthrew. My tender-hearted parent discovered that Sarros was plotting to overthrow him; but instead of having him shot, he merely removed him from command. Sarros gathered a handful of bandits, joined with the old government forces my father had conquered, hired a couple dozen Yankee artillerymen and—he won out. My father was captured and executed; the palace was burned, and my sister perished in the flames. I'm here to pay off the score.”
“A worthy ambition! So you organized the revolutionary junta in New Orleans, eh?”
Ricardo nodded. “Word of it reached Sarros, and he sent his brother Raoul, chief of the Intelligence Bureau, to investigate and report. As fast as he reported, Colonel Caraveo reported to me. Sarros and his gang are just a little bit afraid of me, because he's about as popular with the people as a typhus epidemic, and strange to say, this curiously mercurial people have not forgotten the brief reign of his predecessor. My father's son possesses a name to conjure with. Consequently it was to the interest of the Sarros administration that I be eliminated. They watched every boat; hence my scheme for eluding their vigilance—which, thanks to you, worked like a charm.”
“But,” Webster complained, “I'm not sitting in the game at all, and yet I'm caught between the upper and nether millstones.”
“That is easy to explain. You interfered that morning in Jackson Square; then Raoul Sarros met you going aboard the steamer for Buenaventura and you manhandled him; and naturally, putting two and two together, he has concluded that you are not only his personal enemy but also a friend and protector of mine and consequently an enemy of the state.”
“And as a consequence I'm marked for slaughter?”
“The first plan considered,” said Colonel Càraveo, gravely, “was for Captain Benavides, who is an expert swordsman and a marvellous pistol-shot, to pick a quarrel with you.”
“No hope, Colonel. I manhandled 'em both and declined to fight on their terms. I suppose now I'll just naturally be assassinated.”
“It would be well, my friend,” Doctor Pacheco suggested, “to return to the United States until after Ricardo and his friends have eliminated your Nemesis.”