The eyes of the girl grew troubled and her voice lost its eagerness.
“It was charged in a French paper,” she said, “that the prisoners in San Carlos were being killed by neglect. The French minister is a friend of our family, and he asked Alvarez to appoint a committee of doctors to make an investigation. Alvarez was afraid to refuse, and sent the doctors to examine my father and report on his health. One of them told him that Alvarez would permit him to send a message to my mother, and to tell her himself whether he was, or was not, ill. This is the message that they gave us as coming from my father.
“‘I don’t know what you gentlemen may decide as to my health,’ he said, ‘but I know that I am dying. Tell my wife that I wish to be buried in my native country, and to place upon my tombstone my name and this epitaph: “He wrote history, and made history.”’” The voice of the girl had dropped to a whisper. She recovered herself and continued sadly: “Until three days ago that is the only word we have received from my father in two years.”
The expression on Roddy’s face was one of polite incredulity. Seeing this, Inez, as though answering his thought, said proudly: “My father made history when he arranged the boundary line between British Guiana and Venezuela.”
Roddy shook his head impatiently.
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” he said. “I was thinking of the message. It doesn’t sound a bit like your father,” he exclaimed. “Not like what I’ve heard of him.”
The eyes of the girl grew anxious with disappointment.
“Do you mean,” she asked, “that you think he did not send that message?”
“It doesn’t sound to me,” said Roddy, “like the sort of message he would send, knowing the pain it would cause. He isn’t the sort of man to give up hope, either. Even if it were true, why should he tell your mother he is dying? And that epitaph!” cried Roddy excitedly. “That’s not like him, either! It is not modest.” With sudden eagerness he leaned toward her. “Did your father write history?” he demanded.
Unable to see the purpose of his question, the girl gazed at him in bewilderment. “Why, of course,” she answered.