“Where Alvarez punishes traitors,” exclaimed Roddy in a loud tone, “is what we most desire to see. And,” he added, scowling darkly through the smoke-laden café, “if we could see others who are still at liberty in the same place we would be better pleased.”
The remark, although directed at no one in particular, caused a sensation, and led several of those who had been for two years in exile to hurriedly finish their chocolate ices and seek their homes.
After making an appointment for the morrow with Doctor Vicenti, and when they were safe in their own patio, Peter protested mildly.
“Your devotion to Alvarez,” he said, “is too sudden. You overdo it. Besides, it’s making an expert liar of you. Don’t get the habit.”
“As the son of the man who is trying to destroy Alvarez,” declared Roddy, “my position is extremely delicate. And next week it will be more so. McKildrick got a cable to-day saying that Sam Caldwell is arriving here by the next boat. His starting for Porto Cabello the very moment Vega arrives here means trouble for Alvarez, and that the trouble is coming soon. For, wherever you find Sam Caldwell, there you will find plotting, bribery, and all uncleanliness. And if I’m to help Rojas out of prison I must have nothing to do with Sam. Alvarez recognizes no neutrals. The man who is not with him is against him. So I must be the friend of Alvarez and of his creatures. For public occasions, my hand must be against the F. C. C., against Vega, and especially against Sam Caldwell, because everybody knows he is the personal agent of my father. Vega’s friends know that my father treats me as though he could not trust me. The Alvarez crowd must know that, too. Even as it is, they think my being down here is a sort of punishment. None of them has ever worked in his life, and the idea of a rich man’s son sweating at a donkey-engine with a gang of Conch niggers, means to them only that my father and I have quarrelled. It will be my object hereafter to persuade them that that is so. If I have to act a bit, or lie a bit, what are a few lies against the freedom of such a man as Rojas? So, to-morrow, if you should be so lucky as to see Rojas, don’t be a bit surprised if I should insult that unhappy gentleman grossly. If I do, within an hour the fact will be all over the cafés and the plazas, and with Alvarez it would be counted to me for righteousness. Much that I may have to do of the same sort will make the gentlemen of Vega’s party consider me an ungrateful son, and very much of a blackguard. They may, in their turn, insult me, and want to fight more duels. But it’s all in the game. To save that old man is my only object for living, my only interest. I don’t care how many revolutions I tread on. I would sacrifice everybody and everything—for him.”
After his long speech, Roddy drew a deep breath and glared at Peter as though inviting contradiction. But, instead of contradicting him, Peter smiled skeptically and moved to his bedroom, which opened upon the court-yard. At the door he turned.
“‘And the woman,’” he quoted, “‘was very fair.’”
The next morning the two Americans met Doctor Vicenti in the guard-room of the fortress, and under his escort began a leisurely inspection of the prison. They themselves saw to it that it was leisurely, and by every device prolonged it. That their interest in the one prisoner they had come to see might not be suspected, they pretended a great curiosity in the doctor’s patients and in all the other prisoners. After each visit to a cell they would invite Vicenti to give them the history of its inmate. They assured him these little biographies, as he related them, were of surpassing brilliancy and pathos. In consequence, Vicenti was so greatly flattered that, before they reached the cell of General Rojas, each succeeding narrative had steadily increased in length, and the young doctor had become communicative and loquacious.
When at last they had descended to the lowest tier of cells, Vicenti paused and pointed toward an iron-barred double door.
“In there,” he whispered to Peter, “is our most distinguished political prisoner, General Rojas. There is no one Alvarez would so willingly see dead. And, if he keeps him here a month longer, Alvarez will have his wish.”