Cafe Ducrot. He made little of it. He let the ladies understand
that his life, like that of all public men, was always at the mercy of
assassins. To Roddy he gave full credit.

"Imagine this man reaching for his weapon," he related dramatically,
"myself too far from him to fall upon him, and my arms resting upon
the shoulders of my two good friends. Their safety, also, is in my
mind. But I am helpless. I saw the villain smile confidently. He
points the weapon. Then the young man springs upon him and the bullets
pass us harmlessly. Believe me, but for Mr. Forrester all three of us,
General Pulido, Colonel Ramon and myself, might now be dead."

The two gentlemen designated dismissed the thought with a negligent
wave of the hand. It suggested that, to soldiers like themselves,
being dead was an annoyance to which they had grown accustomed.

"Mr. Forrester!" exclaimed Inez, catching at the name.

"Mr. Forrester!" repeated her mother. "But I thought--I was told only
just now that he knew nothing of our plans."

"That is quite true," Colonel Vega assured her. "He was not with us.
He was there by accident."

"Let us rather say," corrected Senora Rojas piously, "he was placed
there by a special Providence to save you."

That the Almighty should be especially concerned in his well-being did
not appear to Vega as at all unlikely.

He nodded his head gravely.

"It may be so," he admitted.

Through force of habit Senora Rojas glanced about her; but the open
windows showed the empty garden, and around her, seated in two rows of
rocking-chairs, the ladies facing the door, the men facing the ladies,
she saw only friends.

"But why," she asked, "is young Mr. Forrester _not_ in the confidence
of his father? Can he not trust his own son?"

As though sure of her answer she cast a triumphant glance at the
daughter who had dared, against Captain Codman and herself, to
champion Mr. Forrester's son. Pino frowned mysteriously. He did not
like to say that with any action of the great Mr. Forrester he was not
acquainted. So he scowled darkly and shook his head.

"It is a puzzle," he said; "the young man is a fine fellow. To him I
owe my life." He appealed to his friends, who, in time to the sedate
rocking of the chairs, nodded gravely. "But his father is very
decided. He cables us to send him at once to Porto Cabello. He
instructs us not to let him know what we plan to do. I learned that in
Porto Cabello he is only a workman, or,