at once.

None of the matters made the impression upon his mind as that one
glimpse of Jim Framtree at the far-end of the hall. It was not that he
was in the building, though this was of course important; but the
magnificent figure of the man in evening wear was the formidable
impression _The Pleiad_ furnished. This concerned his real life; the
rest was without vitality.

By this time, however, Bedient was willing to grant that _The Pleiad_,
and even Coral City, formed a nervous system of which Celestino Rey was
the brain.... He had given up hope of writing a note to Jim Framtree,
realizing it would have no more chance of getting past the Spaniard
than a clicking infernal-box.

Framtree was nowhere abroad when Bedient went below. The former moved
apparently in a forbidden penetralia of this house of mystery. But
surely he could not continue miraculously to disappear.... Bedient
strolled down into the city. He sadly faced the fact that the
_hacienda_ had no call for him; little more than _The Pleiad._ He
turned in _Calle Real_ to look back at the great dome of the Spaniard's
establishment. It was a gorgeous attraction of morning light.... A
Chinese slipped into a fruit-shop--one of the house-servants. Bedient
made his way to the water-front. The _Hatteras_ was out there in the
harbor, surrounded by lighters, preparing for the return voyage to New
York. This was the lure. It came with a pang that disordered all other
mental matters for a space.

Presently he found himself wandering along the water-front. With an
exoteric eye (for the deeps of the man were in communion) he regarded
the faces of all nations. Coral City held as complete a record of
crime, cruelty, and debauchery as one could find in the human indices
of any port. Many were closing their annals of error in decrepitude and
beggary; others were well-knit studies of evil, with health still
hanging on, more or less, and much deviltry to do. A blue blouse, or a
bit of khaki; British puttees and a flare of crimson; Russian boots and
a glimpse of sodden gray; or an American campaign-hat crowning a motley
of many services,--explained that the soldiers of the world found
Equatoria desirable in not a few cases for finishing enlistments. It
was quite as evident, too, that the criminal riff-raff of this world
and hour found lodging in the lower city, as did its aristocracy in
_The Pleiad_.

"A couple of hundred such as these," Bedient reflected, "led by some
cool