"Is it?" said Johnnie looking keenly at the speaker. He understood at once that here was some sort of an attack upon him.
"Yes," answered the proprietor of the Café Aguacate slowly and softly. "It is very dear. I think to-night one small bit of bread will cost you one centene—in advance." A centene approximates five dollars in gold.
The spy's face did not change. He appeared to reflect. "And how much for the butter?" he asked at last.
The proprietor gestured. "There is no butter. Do you think we can have everything with those Yankee pigs sitting out there on their ships?"
"And how much for the coffee?" asked Johnnie musingly.
Again the two men surveyed each other during a period of silence. Then the proprietor said gently, "I think your coffee will cost you about two centenes."
"And the eggs?"
"Eggs are very dear. I think eggs would cost you about three centenes for each one."
The new looked at the old; the North Atlantic looked at the Mediterranean; the wooden nutmeg looked at the olive. Johnnie slowly took six centenes from his pocket and laid them on the table. "That's for bread, coffee, and one egg. I don't think I could eat more than one egg to-night. I'm not so hungry as I was."
The proprietor held a perpendicular finger and tapped the table with it. "Oh, señor," he said politely, "I think you would like two eggs."