The Presidente bit his lip. He was not really anxious to meet Basil Hayle, and he was much less anxious to meet Mrs Bush; so, as a compromise, he went to the spirit shop to consult Captain Bush, who did not receive him cordially.
“What have I got to do with it?” the Scout growled. “I’m a soldier, not a forsaken police-man like Hayle. If I had taken them, I should have shot them out of hand, to save the trouble of hanging them. Are they friends or relatives of yours?” Usually he and the Presidente were on very good terms, but to-day his nerves were shaken. He knew he deserved, and might possibly get, his dismissal from the Service—that is, if Basil Hayle told the whole truth.
He had got to go to Basil Hayle and ask his forbearance—that was the most bitter thought of all. He was completely in the hands of this Constabulary officer, whom, perhaps, he hated more than any other man living. They could not blame him for not knowing that the attack was coming, but they could, and would, blame him for not being prepared for an attack; whilst, if they learnt that he had been one of the last men on the scene—— He made a grimace at the thought.
It was midday when Basil awakened, wondering at first where he could be; then, as he looked round, he remembered suddenly. A few minutes later Mrs Bush came in. “You look better now,” she said. “You were dreadfully tired this morning. You ought to have something to eat, though, before you go out. One of your serjeants has been asking for you; and I have been watching the Presidente stalking up and down in front of the house like a maniac.”
Basil shrugged his shoulders. “They can wait,” he said. “I really am hungry now.”
Whilst he was eating, he gave her a few more details of the night’s adventure. “It was Felizardo who really saved you,” he said, whereat she shook her head. “Yes, it was,” he went on. “But for him, I should still have been at that dreary hole, Silang.”
“Was it very dreary?” she asked.
He looked away. “Of course it was. I never hated a place so much in my life. You see——” He broke off suddenly, and for a few minutes there was silence; then he got up rather abruptly. “If you’ll excuse me now, I must see what the serjeant wants.”
As he went out, the Presidente stopped him.
“May I speak to you a moment, Captain?” the official began, but Basil cut him short.