are a non-combatant, and that is better than I could have
expected. You English as a rule are singularly averse to our
propaganda. But wait and see how affairs order themselves."

"It will be a long time to wait. I'm afraid you'll never find the
Recipe."

I had risen to my legs to say good-bye. Taltavull gripped my hand in
his bony fingers. "You don't know me, Monsieur Cospatric. We
anarchists never give in. I shall not cease searching for this Recipe
till I find it, or until I learn for certain that it has been
destroyed. Buenas noches."

"Good-night," said I, and went out into the moonlight. My little
Frenchman had gone long ago, and so I strolled alone down the steep
cobbled street, conning over many things. Verily this life is full of
strange coincidences.

Haigh was at the hotel. I met him coming out of the room
_vis-a-vis_ to ours across the passage. We went in to our
quarters, and sat in wicker-lined rocking-chairs (relic of the time
when the Yankee had Port Mahon for a rendezvous), and he told me many
things. "But," he concluded, "it was the music that drove me out. Those
dark-eyed factory girls were just fine, and _la marguerita_ as a
dance perfection. But the orchestra was an addition I couldn't stand at
any price. It was something too ghastly for words. All the brass sharp
and the strings screechy. So I just skipped, came back here, and
forgathered with a lone, lorn Englishman on his first trans-Channel
trip. He was a splendid find. Needless to say, he's going to write a
book about his travels, and as he seemed eager for information, I gave
him a lot. Honestly, he's the most stupendous Juggins it's ever been my
fate to meet; and that's putting the matter strongly, for since I've
been--er--on the wander, I've come across most brands of fool."

"What manner of man is he to look at?"

"Oh, middle height, tweeds and cap all to match and new for the trip,
big brown eyes that look at you dreamily, and a rather Jewish face. Not
a bad-looking chap by any means, but oh, such a particularly verdant
sort of greenhorn. The only one point on which he showed a single grain
of sense was in refusing to play poker with me. He didn't want to
offend me; he hoped most sincerely that I should take no offence, but a
friend had extracted a promise from him before he left home to play no
card games with strangers. The fact was, he was really so unskilful
with cards. I wasn't offended, was I? His candour was so refreshing
th