Quentin called to Diagasio, the long-handed hardware merchant, and said:
“Tell Don Paco I’m waiting for him.”
“He’s speaking.”
“Well, I’m in a hurry.”
Diagasio left him, and presently Don Paco came over, still orating, and surrounded by several friends.
“No,” he was saying, “I claim it, and I shall always claim it. We Spaniards are not yet ready to accept the republican form of government. Ah, gentlemen! If we were in England! In that freest of all lands, the cradle of liberties, ... of sacred liberties.”
“Very well,”—said Quentin quickly, “that discourse does not concern me. I came to tell you that I have received an answer to the letter I sent, and that he has made an appointment.”
Don Paco returned to his friends, and now and then a phrase reached Quentin: “A dangerous mission,” “mysteries,” “the police,” “the result will be known later.” Then the worthy President came over to Quentin.
“Will some one accompany us?”
“No; why should they? The more people that go, the worse it will be.”