"Well," said de Mello bluntly, "I am sick of lying up waiting for your agitators to rise."
"There is work of a difficult and exciting nature before you. Where's that translation of the cipher telegram, Miguel? Ah, thank you,—look here, Admiral."
The sailor read the paper, and whistled significantly. "It may go further than you wish, Molara, this time," he said unceremoniously.
"I shall place the matter in your hands; you will be able to save this situation, as you have saved so many others."
"Where did this come from?" asked de Mello.
"From French sources."
"She is a powerful ship, the Aggressor,—latest design, newest guns, in fact all the modern improvements; I have nothing that she could not sink in ten minutes; besides, there are some gunboats there as well."
"I know the situation is difficult," said the President; "that is why I am entrusting it to you! Now listen; whatever happens I don't want fighting; that would only end in disaster; and you know what disaster would mean here. You must argue and parley and protest on every point, and cause as much delay as possible. Consult me by telegraph on every occasion, and try to make friends with the English admiral; that is half the battle. If it ever comes to a question of bombardment, we shall give in and protest again. I will have your instructions forwarded to you in writing this evening. You had better steam to-night. You understand the game?"
"Yes," said de Mello, "I have played it before." He shook hands and walked to the door.
The President accompanied him. "It is possible," he said earnestly, "that I shall want you back here before you have gone very far; there are many signs of trouble in the city, and after all Strelitz is still on the frontier waiting for a chance. If I send for you, you will come?" There was almost an appealing note in his tone.