“Very well,” said I, “I shall go fishing; start overnight, and have a shy at them at sunrise.”

The man was rather astonished at my unwonted energy, but of course made no objection.

“What time shall you start, sir?” he asked.

“I want her ready by two,” said I.

“Do you want me to go with you, sir?”

I pretended to consider, and then told him, to his obvious relief, that I could dispense with his services.

“Leave her at the end of your jetty,” I said, “ready for me.  She’ll be all safe there, won’t she?”

“Oh, yes, sir.  Nobody’ll be about, except the sentries, and they won’t touch her.”

I privately hoped that not even the sentries would be about, but I didn’t say so.

“Of course, sir, I shall lock the gate.  You’ve got your key?”

“Yes, all right, and here you are—­and much obliged for your trouble.”

Highly astonished and grateful at receiving a large tip for no obvious reason (rather a mistake on my part), the man was profuse in promising to make every arrangement for my comfort.  Even when I asked for a few cushions, he dissembled his scorn and agreed to put them in.

“And mind you don’t sit up,” I said as I left him.

“I’m not likely to sit up if I’m not obliged,” he answered.  “Hope you’ll have good sport, sir.”

From the harbor I made my way straight to the Golden House.  The colonel was rather surprised to see me again so soon, but when I told him I came on business, he put his occupations on one side and listened to me.

I began with some anxiety, for if he suspected my good faith all would be lost.  However, I was always a good hand at a lie, and the colonel was not the President.

“I’ve come about that money question,” I said.

“Well, have you come to your senses?” he asked, with his habitual rudeness.

“I can’t give you the money—­” I went on.

“The devil you can’t!” he broke in.  “You sit there and tell me that?  Do you know that if the soldiers don’t have money in a few hours, they’ll upset me?  They’re ready to do it any minute.  By Jove!  I don’t know now, when I give an order, whether I shall be obeyed or get a bullet through my head.”

“Pray be calm!” said I.  “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Let you finish!” he cried.  “You seem to think jabber does everything.  The end of it all is, that either you give me the money or I take it—­and if you interfere, look out!”

“That was just what I was going to propose, if you hadn’t interrupted me,” I said quietly, but with inward exultation, for I saw he was just in the state of mind to walk eagerly into the trap I was preparing for him.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I explained to him that it was impossible for me to give up the money.  My reputation was at stake; it was my duty to die in defense of that money—­a duty which, I hastened to add, I entertained no intention of performing.