A rap at the door prevented further discussion.
“That is Gato,” the king whispered. “Hide there,” pointing to a curtained door in the rear wall.
We were immediately concealed. The place was an anteroom. Through the curtain we could hear and see everything.
Gato entered.
“What news?” the king inquired in a friendly, business-like fashion.
“Everything is quiet, your Majesty.”
“How is the weather?”
“It is beginning to clear.”
“Good! If the storm has made any wrecks, a castaway for the sacrifice may drift ashore. That would restore order.”
Gato solemnly shook his head. The king reclined in silence, and then asked: