They confronted each other a moment in silence.
"But I won't help her," she went on. "I'm not that sort. I'm a selfish woman. I've always been selfish because I've never had anybody to work for. But I have it in me to be generous."
"I'm sorry," he said. "You have suffered, I know. Don't trouble any more about me—please."
She stared at him defiantly, although her whole frame was shaking as if from an ague.
"Oh, I'd rather face the gallows as you face it than what is before me, and I'm not sure I could help you, after all. You are in Latin America now, remember, and your enemies are strong."
"I am Darwin K. Anthony's son," he protested. "He won't allow it."
"Bah! He is an American, and these are Spanish people. You have seen how they like us, and you have seen what Alfarez can do. He's rich, and he'll perjure more witnesses, he'll manipulate the court with his money. Yes, and I'd rather he succeeded than see you—No, no! What am I saying? L-let me go; let me get away from here!" She broke down, and went sobbing out into the corridor. The iron door clanged to behind her.
On the same afternoon, Mr. Clifford, accompanied by Anson, the lawyer, took the 3.20 train for Colon. As soon as he arrived, he called up Colonel Jolson, to request that the Commissioner's motor-car should, without fail, await him at ten o'clock sharp on the next morning, with an open track ahead of it. Strangely enough, the Colonel agreed very readily.