y formalized garden.

"More victims," he observed grimly to himself, of the plane.

Ribiera lifted a pigmented hand to wave languidly from a shaded chair.
There were women about him, three of them, and it sickened Bell to see
the frightened assiduity with which they flattered him. Bell had met
them, of course. Madame the wife of the State President of Bahia--in
the United States of Brazil the states have presidents instead of
governors--preferred the title of "Madame" because it was more foreign
and consequently more aristocratic than Senhora. And Madame the wife
of the General--

"Senhor," called Ribiera blandly, "I have news for you."

Bell turned and went toward him with an air of pleased expectancy. He
noticed for the first time the third of the women. Young, in the first
flush of youthful maturity, but with an expression of stark terror
lingering behind a palpably assumed animation.

"An acquaintance of yours, Senhor," said Ribiera, "is to be my
guests."

Bell steeled himself.

"The Senhor Canalejas," said Ribiera, beaming, "and his daughter."

* * * * *

Bell seemed to frown, and then seemed to remember.

"Oh, yes," he said carelessly, "I met her in Washington. She was on
the _Almirante Gomez_, coming down."

The next instant he saw Ribiera's expression, and cursed himself for a
fool. Ribiera's eyes had narrowed sharply. Then they half-closed, and
he smiled.

"She is charming," said Ribiera in drowsy contentment, "and I had
thought you would be glad to improve her acquaintance. Especially
since, as my friend, you may congratulate me. A contract of marriage
is under discussion."

Bell felt every muscle grow taut. The fat, pigmented man before
him....

"Indeed," said Bell politely, "I do congratulate you."

Ribiera looked at him with an expression in which a sardonic
admiration mingled with something else less pleasant.

"You are clever, Senhor Bell," he said heavily, seeming to sink more
deeply into his chair. "Very clever." He shifted his eyes to the women
who stood about him. "You may go," he said indifferently. His tone was
exactly that of a despot dismissing his slaves. Two of them colored
with instinctive resentment. His eyes lingered an instant on the
third. Her face had showed only a passionate relief. "You, Senhora,"
he said heavily, "may wait nearby."

The terror returned to her features, but she moved submissively to a
spot a little out of earshot. Bel