ublic
occasions, my hand must be against the F. C. C., against Vega, and
especially against Sam Caldwell, because everybody knows he is the
personal agent of my father. Vega's friends know that my father treats
me as though he could not trust me. The Alvarez crowd must know that,
too. Even as it is, they think my being down here is a sort of
punishment. None of them has ever worked in his life, and the idea of
a rich man's son sweating at a donkey-engine with a gang of Conch
niggers, means to them only that my father and I have quarrelled. It
will be my object hereafter to persuade them that that is so. If I
have to act a bit, or lie a bit, what are a few lies against the
freedom of such a man as Rojas? So, to-morrow, if you should be so
lucky as to see Rojas, don't be a bit surprised if I should insult
that unhappy gentleman grossly. If I do, within an hour the fact will
be all over the cafes and the plazas, and with Alvarez it would be
counted to me for righteousness. Much that I may have to do of the
same sort will make the gentlemen of Vega's party consider me an
ungrateful son, and very much of a blackguard. They may, in their
turn, insult me, and want to fight more duels. But it's all in the
game. To save that old man is my only object for living, my only
interest. I don't care how many revolutions I tread on. I would
sacrifice everybody and everything--for him."

After his long speech, Roddy drew a deep breath and glared at Peter as
though inviting contradiction. But, instead of contradicting him,
Peter smiled skeptically and moved to his bedroom, which opened upon
the court-yard. At the door he turned.

"'And the woman,'" he quoted, "'was very fair.'"

The next morning the two Americans met Doctor Vicenti in the
guard-room of the fortress, and under his escort began a leisurely
inspection of the prison. They themselves saw to it that it was
leisurely, and by every device prolonged it. That their interest in
the one prisoner they had come to see might not be suspected, they
pretended a great curiosity in the doctor's patients and in all the
other prisoners. After each visit to a cell they would invite Vicenti
to give them the history of its inmate. They assured him these little
biographies, as he related them, were of surpassing brilliancy and
pathos. In consequence, Vicenti was so greatly flattered that, before
they reached the cell of General Rojas, each succeeding narrative had
steadily increased in length