"I thought it just possible you might be short of cash," he explained, "so I brought a couple of thousand along with me."
The Colonel's eyes glistened.
"In gold?" he asked hoarsely.
Tony loosened the mouth of one of the bags, and tipped out a little shining stream of yellow coins.
"All in the best English sovereigns," he said, gathering them up and replacing them again. Then, with a graceful gesture, he pushed both bags across the table. "Take them, Colonel," he added. "Take them from me as a small gift towards the freedom of Livadia."
For a moment the Colonel was too overcome to speak.
"Sir Antony," he exclaimed at last, "you must give me your pardon. Congosta was right in what he said. I did you a great wrong in ever doubting your honour." He raised his half empty glass. "I drink," he said, "to the saviour of my country."
Tony bowed. "That," he replied, "is a title which I think already belongs to you—or Señor Congosta."
There was a dramatic pause, and then the Colonel set down his glass.
"I will tell you," he said bluntly, "what it is that we propose to do. It is right that you should know." With an instinctive glance round the cabin, as if to make quite certain that there were no eavesdroppers, he advanced towards the table. "In the afternoon, yesterday," he went on, "Pedro and Da Freitas landed in Portriga. They have brought the Princess and the Count de Sé with them. Already there are notices, placed up all over the town, saying that on Sunday morning the marriage will take place in the Cathedral."