I pointed out to him--Lejaune is adjudant while Boldini is only caporal."
"And what did he say to that?" asked Michael.
"That a live caporal is better than a dead adjudant," was the interesting reply.
"Sounds sinister," I observed in English.
"Nice little crowd," said Michael in the same language. "One really doesn't know where one is, nor where to start on the job of making head or tail of the business.
"Let's get this clear now," he said to Bolidar. "You are Lejaune's--er--man. You warned him of Schwartz's plot to mutiny and kill him, while acting as though you were a ringleader. You have told every detail to Lejaune and kept him up to date with every development. Lejaune has given you the job of killing me. If I join Schwartz, you are to turn loyal, go over to Lejaune, and shoot me in my bed when we are arrested.
"If I refuse to join Schwartz you are to continue as a mutineer and shoot me, from your bed, when I come in with the loyal party to arrest you.
"If I decline to declare myself you are to be my executioner, self-appointed, on behalf of the worthy mutineers--who will have no neutrals about. And all this in order that Lejaune may get a diamond that is supposed to be in my possession. . . ."
Bolidar was sunk in a lethargy of miserable thought. He slowly nodded in affirmation.
"And probably Boldini has a plan of his own which involves a dead adjudant and leaves a live caporal--also in pursuit of a diamond! And Boldini's plan, I suppose, is to support Lejaune until he has got the diamond, and then withdraw the support--and the diamond? . . ."
Bolidar came out of his fit of brooding abstraction.
"That is what Guantaio said," he replied. "He wanted me to join Boldini, Colonna, Gotto, and himself. We were to plot, and kill Lejaune and those who stood by him against the mutineers, after those poor fools had been arrested and either shot (in 'self-defence,' of course) or put in the cells. When we had got the diamond we could decide whether to liberate the mutineers and use them in fighting our way to Morocco, or whether their mouths had better be closed. . . . We could set fire to the fort and clear out--and everything would be put down to the account of the Arabs. . . ."
"And why did you not fall in with this pretty scheme?" asked Michael.
"Well--who could trust Boldini? Or Guantaio? Or any of them, for that matter? They are not honest men. Once Boldini had the diamond, what would be the worth of the life of the man who had a claim on a share of it? To have the diamond would, of course, be death! To be one of a syndicate owning it would, of course, be death! Even to know who had got it would be death, for the man who had it would kill you lest you robbed him or demanded your share. . . . How can one work with such dishonest people?" and the speaker's voice broke with righteous indignation.
"And has Guantaio made any other proposals which you have rejected with contempt?" asked Michael.
"Oh--any number," replied Bolidar. "He seems to think I'm a fool. He actually proposed that I should rob you, and he and I should desert together, before all this mutiny business takes place. I was almost tempted--but--but----"
"Quite," said Michael. "It must be a great handicap."
"It is," agreed Bolidar. "And besides," he added, "how could two men walk across two thousand miles of desert, apart from the question of goums and the Touaregs? . . . And wouldn't Guantaio murder me directly we got to Morocco?"
"Unless you murdered him first," said Michael.
"Yes," agreed Bolidar, "but one might leave it too late . . ." and he meandered on about the untrustworthiness of Italians.
"Well, now. Let's get down to business," Michael interrupted. "What have you told us all this for? What do you want us to do?"
"Why," said Bolidar, "I felt I must deal with honest men and I must get away. It is certain death for me. If I get the diamond I shall be killed for it, or for knowing that Lejaune has got it. If I don't get it, Lejaune will kill me for failing him, or else for knowing too much when there is a court martial about the mutiny. . . ."
"Well?" Michael encouraged him.
"I thought that if I told you two all about it--the real truth to honest men--you would save my life and your own, and give me a share in the diamond."
"How save our lives?" Michael asked.
"All desert together before the mutiny, and you give me a third-part share in the diamond when we are safe."
"How do you know we should keep our promise?" asked Michael.
"Because you are English. . . . In Brazil, we say, 'Word of an Englishman!' and 'Word of an American!' when we are swearing to keep faith. If you promise, I know you will perform."
"This is very touching," said Michael. "But suppose I give you my word that I haven't got a diamond and never possessed a diamond in my life?"
Bolidar smiled greasily, as at one who must have his little jest.
"Oh, Sehor!" he murmured, waggling his head and his hands idiotically.
"One knows of the little parcel in your belt-pouch," he said.
"Oh, one does, does one?" smiled Michael. "Fancy that now!"
Silence fell.
"Well--as you just said, two or three people can't march off into the desert and expect to live for more than a day or two," observed Michael after a while.
"We might make a party," suggested Bolidar. "It is known that St. André, Maris, Cordier, and one or two more refuse to listen to Schwartz's plan to kill Lejaune."
"Nor are they deserters," said Michael.
"No--but when they know that they are to be killed by the mutineers if they don't join them, or to be killed by Lejaune if they do--what then? . . . Tell them the truth--that Lejaune is going to have no survivors of this mutiny--whichever side they may be on. No. He's going to have the diamond and the credit and glory of suppressing the mutiny and saving the fort single-handed. He'll teach les légionnaires to mutiny! Their mutiny shall end in death for the lot of them--and in wealth and promotion for Lejaune. He sees himself an officer and a rich man on the strength of this fine mutiny. . . . And what happens to the men who told him about the diamond--the men who helped him and risked their lives for him? What, I ask you? . . . Death, I tell you. Death! Death! Death!" he screamed, trembling and slavering like a trapped beast.
"And who did tell him about this wonderful diamond?" asked Michael.
"Boldini," replied Bolidar. "As soon as he rejoined, he told him of the gang of famous London jewel-thieves who had fled from the English police to the Legion. He and Guantaio and Gotto were to get it and give it to Lejaune, who would protect them and who would either place it and share with them, or keep it until they had all served their time. . . . I don't know."
"And they put you up to steal it in Sidi, eh?" asked Michael. "Why you?"
But Bolidar spurned such an unworthy suggestion.
"Anyhow, we're getting away from the point," Michael interrupted him. "What's
