Besides, Leon was her brother, and anything that was in the remotest degree connected with Georgia appealed to his chivalrous nature.
Last of all he had promised, aye, taken a solemn vow, that he would find Leon, and this being interpreted meant that should the young man be in a predicament of any sort it would be his business and his pleasure to succor him if such a thing lay in the bounds of human possibility.
Roderic had means of communication abroad.
A cablegram sent from Europe to a certain correspondent in New York would be immediately transmitted to another point in the West Indies, possibly San Domingo, where the message would be put in the form of a letter and sent to an imaginary Spaniard at San Juan.
Thus it happened that when he returned to the humble roof that sheltered him, when evening drew on apace, he found there a well thumbed missive which upon being hastily opened contained this sanguine message:
"Have broken the bank at Monte Carlo. Will sail to join you to-morrow."
Roderic laughed—he could not help it.
Darby had longed for a chance to try some peculiar combination he had hatched up upon the great gambling centre, and this opportunity had appeared a wonderful favor.
The chance was one in a million, yet it had actually come to pass.
"I've heard the song about the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo, but never dreamed I would in any way be instrumental in sending a representative there who would do that same thing. Good for Darby, lucky fellow. By the way, I wonder does that charming adventuress sail with him—if so the chances are ten to one the fortune he has won will not be in his possession long. Well, it must be some time before he can join me, unless he manages to board some Spanish steamer, taking the guise of a don; and such vessels are exceedingly scarce on the high seas now."