en for his pardon;
but--" The Consul shook his head impatiently, and with pitying eyes
looked down upon the excited men on the steamer below them.

"But what?" demanded Roddy.

"I suspect every act of Alvarez," the Consul explained. "This _looks_
like the act of a generous opponent. But I cannot believe it is that.
I believe he knows all that is being plotted against him. I believe
this act of amnesty is only a device to put the plotters where he can
get his hand on them. He is the spider inviting the flies into his
parlor."

As the little steamer passed the harbor mouth and pushed her nose
toward Porto Cabello, Roddy, with Peter at his side, leaned upon the
starboard rail. Roddy had assured Inez that Peter must be given their
full confidence, and he now only waited a fitting moment to tell him
of what had occurred that morning, in so far, at least, as it referred
to the tunnel.

The eyes of both were turned toward Casa Blanca, now rapidly
retreating from them. And, as they watched it, the mind of each
occupied with thoughts of its inmates, they saw a white figure leave
the house, and, moving slowly, halt at the edge of the cliff.

Roddy, his eyes straining toward the coast-line, took off his hat and
stood with it clasped in his hands. Peter saw the movement, and to
hide a smile of sympathy, looked down at the white foam rushing below
them.

"Roddy," he asked, "what sort of a girl is Inez Rojas?"

His eyes still seeking the figure on the rocks, and without turning
his head, Roddy answered with startling directness:

"What sort of a girl?" he growled. "The sort of a girl _I_ am going to
marry!"

More moved than he knew, and thinking himself secure in the excited
babel about him and in the fact that the others spoke in Spanish,
Roddy had raised his voice. He was not conscious he had done so until,
as he spoke, he saw a man leaning on the rail with his back toward
him, give an involuntary start. Furious with himself, Roddy bit his
lip, and with impatience waited for the man to disclose himself. For a
moment the stranger remained motionless, and then, obviously to find
out who had spoken, slowly turned his head. Roddy found himself
looking into the glowing, angry eyes of Pino Vega. Of the two men,
Roddy was the first to recover. With eagerness he greeted the
Venezuelan; with enthusiasm he expressed his pleasure at finding him
among his fellow-passengers, he rejoiced that Colonel Vega no longer
was an exile. The