So they were standing, unable to make a decision, when Robledo appeared. He had evidently been prowling about the vicinity to learn some news of the event. When he saw Canterac, he looked questioningly at him.
“And the other ...?”
Canterac bowed his head, and the marqués with a gesture told Robledo what had happened.
All three men stood silent. Finally the Frenchman said very low,
“My career is ended, my family lost to me.... And the most frightful part of it all is that I can feel no hate when I think of that poor man.... What is to become of me?”
Robledo was the only one of the three capable at that moment of coming to a determined decision.
“The first thing you must do, Canterac, is to get away. There’ll be a great stir about this affair. We won’t be able to hush it up as though it were a fist-fight in the boliche. You must get away to the Andes, at once. When you get into Chile you can wait there.... Everything in this world can be settled somehow ... perhaps well, perhaps badly, but settled somehow.”
The Frenchman, however, had lost his grip for the moment. What could he do? He had no money ... he had spent it all for that mad garden party.... How could he live in Chile? He knew no one there....
Robledo took his arm and pulled him gently away from the others.