President Bambos.”
“I am delighted to welcome you, and how is my esteemed brother?”
“Never better; when he told me of a slight misunderstanding, I volunteered to lay the matter before you, knowing how willing you would be to listen patiently, and aware too of your deep sense of justice.”
“You do me honor, my good friend,” replied President Yozarro, bowing and smiling so broadly that his white teeth gleamed through his mustache. “I am eager as always to right any wrong and to correct any misunderstanding.”
“Three days ago when your excellent gunboat was at target practice, on the Rio Rubio, one of the shots injured the dwelling of a citizen of Zalapata.”
“It grieves me to learn that,” replied the President, as if the episode was wholly new to him; “I am impatient to do what I can to repair the carelessness of my gunner: will it please you to have him shot, as a warning to others to be more careful?”
“By no means; the payment of the slight sum – only forty-two pesos– with an expression of regret, will more than satisfy President Bambos.”
“I shall hasten to comply with so moderate and just a demand: will you be good enough to convey this statement to my esteemed brother?”
Considering the moderate sum involved, it would seem that President Yozarro might well have closed the incident by passing over the amount to the ambassador, but, since he made no offer to do so, the ambassador could not in common courtesy remind him of it. The Atlamalcan Republic had its own methods and red tape ruled there as elsewhere.
“I am sure that President Bambos could ask nothing more, and I shall take pleasure in repeating your gracious words to him.”
President Yozarro bowed, smiled, muttered “Gracias,” and lit another cigarette.
“I beg your Excellency that I may have the privilege of a few words with my sister, Miss Starland, who came ashore from my yacht last week to visit her friend Señorita Estacardo, and whom it has not been my pleasure to see since then.”
“My good friend makes another request which it shall be my delight to grant,” replied President Yozarro, with his bland smile, as he crossed his shapely legs, leaned back and blew the puffs of his cigarette toward the ceiling.
Major Starland felt that he was getting on swimmingly. He had already decided to hand over to President Bambos the amount of the damages for the injury to the property of one of his citizens, quite content to place it to his personal account of profit and loss. Uneasy over the prolonged absence of Miss Starland, he would quickly arrange matters with her during the impending interview.
“I have a pleasant surprise for you,” said the President, after his caller had expressed his acknowledgments; “the Señorita made known so warm a wish to see her brother that I hastened to take her, as she and I supposed, to him.”
“I do not understand your Excellency.”
“She is now at Zalapata, whither she went in our gunboat.”
“When?”
“Last night; we must have met on the way, for you could scarcely have made the voyage between the capitals since sunrise.”
This remark explained that night trip of the General Yozarro, whose going the Major had seen and whose returning he had heard.
“Yes,” added his host; “she had but to make known her wish, when she and her friend Señorita Manuela, my niece, became my guests on my gunboat, and were landed at Zalapata last evening, where she will be disappointed to find you absent, though your meeting will be deferred but a short time.”
With many acknowledgments, Major Starland bade President Yozarro good bye, passed out into the hall and hurried down the street to the wharf, where Captain Guzman was placidly awaiting him. The same drowsiness that he had noted on his arrival, brooded over everything, and no time was lost in casting off and heading down the river.
But during the absence of the American, the Captain had had a visitor, who did not step ashore, but helped in getting the boat under way, and showed by his action, that he meant to remain with them, if they did not object thereto.
“Who is he?” asked Starland, at the first opportunity to speak privately to his friend.
“Martella, a deserter from President Yozarro.”
“That won’t do, Captain; I cannot permit him to go with us.”
“Not so, Major; he is more valuable than you think; he will tell you something you ought to know.”
CHAPTER IX
The little craft was fairly under way, and with favoring wind and current, ought to reach Zalapata in the course of ten or twelve hours. Martella, the new recruit, so to speak, seeing there was nothing just then for him to do, sat down at the bow of the boat and smoked his cigarette, while Captain Guzman kept company with Major Starland at the stern.
“Two years ago, when there was war between Atlamalco and Zalapata,” explained the native officer, “we captured a party of raiders in the mountains and shot them all excepting one. He was Martella, who, being wounded, was saved at my prayer. Since then we have been friends.”
“He ought to be your life friend if there is any such thing as gratitude in his nature.”
“I have been to see him and he comes to see me. Martella is one who speaks the truth.”
“I was not aware that – barring yourself – there was any man in this part of the world who had that virtue.”
“What did President Yozarro tell you?” asked the Captain so bluntly that the American resented it.
“You have no warrant for asking that question.”
“Pardon me, Major; I do not ask to know what he said about the claim of President Bambos, for I already know that.”
“You do! Well, what was it?”
“He said he would pay the amount of the claim and asked you to tell President Bambos he is very sorry.”
“You are right; that is what he said.”
“But he did not pay you the money; and, begging pardon again, Major, you intended to pay it yourself to President Bambos, as if it came from General Yozarro.”
“You would be called a mind reader, Captain, in my country, for you are right in everything you say. It will spoil his game, however, if General Bambos is as keen as you.”
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