“Mr. Ritchie,” said the Baron, “you are a young man and I an old one.  If I tell you that I have a great respect for your astuteness and ability, do not put it down to flattery.  I wish that your countrymen, who are coming down the river like driftwood, more resembled you.  As for Citizen Gignoux,” he went on, smiling, and wiping his face, “let not your heart be troubled.  His Majesty’s minister at Philadelphia has written me letters on the subject.  I am contemplating for Monsieur Gignoux a sea voyage to Havana, and he is at present partaking of my hospitality in the calabozo.”

“In the calabozo!” I cried, overwhelmed at this example of Spanish justice and omniscience.

“Precisely,” said the Baron, drumming with his fingers on his fat knee.  “And now,” he added, “perhaps Madame la Vicomtesse is ready to tell me of the whereabouts of Mr. Temple and her estimable cousin, Auguste.  It may interest her to know why I have allowed them their liberty so long.”

“A point on which I have been consumed with curiosity—­since I have begun to tremble at the amazing thoroughness of your Excellency’s system,” said the Vicomtesse.

His Excellency scarcely looked the tyrant as he sat before us, with his calves crossed and his hands folded on his waistcoat and his little black eyes twinkling.

“It is because,” he said, “there are many French planters in the province bitten with the three horrors” (he meant Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity), “I sent six to Havana; and if Monsieur Etienne de Bore had not, in the nick of time for him, discovered how to make sugar he would have gone, too.  I had an idea that the Sieur de St. Gre and Mr. Temple might act as a bait to reveal the disease in some others.  Ha, I am cleverer than you thought, Mr. Ritchie.  You are surprised?”

I was surprised, and showed it.

“Come,” he said, “you are astute.  Why did you think I left them at liberty?”

“I thought your Excellency believed them to be harmless, as they are,” I replied.

He turned again to the Vicomtesse.  “You have picked up a diplomat, Madame.  I must confess that I misjudged him when you introduced him to me.  And again, where are Mr. Temple and your estimable cousin?  Shall I tell you?  They are at old Lamarque’s, on the plantation of Philippe de St. Gre.”

“They were, your Excellency,” said the Vicomtesse.

“Eh?” exclaimed the Baron, jumping.

“Mademoiselle de St. Gre has given her brother eight hundred livres, and he is probably by this time on board a French ship at the English Turn.  He is very badly frightened.  I will give your Excellency one more surprise.”

“Madame la Vicomtesse,” said the Baron, “I have heard that, but for your coolness and adroitness, Monsieur le Vicomte, your husband, and several other noblemen and their ladies and some of her Majesty’s letters and jewels would never have gotten out of France.  I take this opportunity of saying that I have the greatest respect for your intelligence.  Now what is the surprise?”