airy attire. But even a common
desperado would think twice or, more likely, a hundred times, before
openly murdering an inoffensive citizen in a civilized, European-ruled
town. He jerked his shoulders. Of course! He shuddered again, and
paddled back to his room to dress himself. His mind was made up, and he
would think no more about it; but still he had his doubts. They grew and
unfolded themselves with the progress of the day, as some plants do. At
times they made him perspire more than usual, and they did away with
the possibility of his afternoon siesta. After turning over on his couch
more than a dozen times, he gave up this mockery of repose, got up, and
went downstairs.

It was between three and four o'clock, the hour of profound peace. The
very flowers seemed to doze on their stalks set with sleepy leaves. Not
even the air stirred, for the sea-breeze was not due till later. The
servants were out of sight, catching naps in the shade somewhere behind
the house. Mrs. Schomberg in a dim up-stair room with closed jalousies,
was elaborating those two long pendant ringlets which were such a
feature of her hairdressing for her afternoon duties. At that time no
customers ever troubled the repose of the establishment. Wandering about
his premises in profound solitude, Schomberg recoiled at the door of the
billiard-room, as if he had seen a snake in his path. All alone with the
billiards, the bare little tables, and a lot of untenanted chairs, Mr.
Secretary Ricardo sat near the wall, performing with lightning rapidity
something that looked like tricks with his own personal pack of cards,
which he always carried about in his pocket. Schomberg would have backed
out quietly if Ricardo had not turned his head. Having been seen, the
hotel-keeper elected to walk in as the lesser risk of the two. The
consciousness of his inwardly abject attitude towards these men caused
him always to throw his chest out and assume a severe expression.
Ricardo watched his approach, clasping the pack of cards in both hands.

"You want something, perhaps?" suggested Schomberg in his
lieutenant-of-the-Reserve voice.

Ricardo shook his head in silence and looked expectant. With him
Schomberg exchanged at least twenty words every day. He was infinitely
more communicative than his patron. At times he looked very much like
an ordinary human being of his class; and he seemed to be in an amiable
mood at that moment. Suddenly spreading some ten cards face