“It is the enchanted garden of the sleeping princess,” said Peter. “And there are her sleeping attendants,” he added, pointing at two waiters who were slumbering peacefully, their arms stretched out upon the marble-top tables.
It seemed heartless to awaken them, and the young men explored further until they found a stately, rambling mansion where a theatrical landlord with much rubbing of his hands brought them glasses and wonderful Holland gin.
“We must remember the Café Ducrot,” said Roddy, as they drove on. “It is so quiet and peaceful.”
Afterward they recalled his having said this, and the fact caused them much amusement.
From the Café Ducrot the road ran between high bushes and stunted trees that shaded it in on either side; but could not shade it completely. Then it turned toward Otrabanda along the cliff that overlooks the sea.
On the land side was a wall of dusky mesquite bushes, bound together by tangled vines, with here and there bending above them a wind-tortured cocoanut palm. On the east side of the road, at great distances apart, were villas surrounded by groves of such hardy trees and plants as could survive the sweep of the sea winds. “If we ask the driver,” whispered Roddy, “who lives in each house, he won’t suspect we are looking for any one house in particular.” Accordingly, as they drew up even with a villa they rivaled each other in exclaiming over its beauty. And the driver, his local pride becoming more and more gratified, gave them the name of the owner of the house and his history.
As he approached a villa all of white stucco, with high, white pillars rising to the flat roof of the tropics, he needed no prompting, but, with the air of one sure of his effect, pulled his horses to a halt and pointed with his whip.
“That house, gentle-mans,” he said, “belongs to Señora Rojas.” Though the house was one hundred yards from the road, as though fearful of being overheard, the negro spoke in an impressive whisper. “She is the lady of General Rojas. He is a great General, gentle-mans, and now he be put in prison. President Alvarez, he put that General Rojas in prison, down in the water, an’ he chain him to the rock, an’ he put that lady in exile. President Alvarez he be very bad man.
“Every day at six o’clock that lady and the young ladies they stand on that cliff and pray for that General Rojas. You like me to drive you, gentle-mans, out here at six o’clock,” he inquired insinuatingly, “an’ see those ladies pray?”
“Certainly not!” exclaimed Roddy indignantly.