OO slow to waken to his danger, Hampton perceived that he was surrounded beyond hope of escape. There was no local ill-feeling against Americans, for Panama was too far from Mexico to share in the hatred engendered by the late war; but the brown soldiers took no chances in dealing with their brawny transients, and the steadiness of the rifles around him apprized Hampton that he could not attempt to break clear.
“It is he, señor capitan!” cried the peon to the officer, pointing to Hampton. “That is the gringo, the very one! It was he who robbed and murdered my brother, coming from Chagres! Warn your men to be careful, for he is a very in strength and alertness”
The officer, planting himself before Hampton, lifted his sword.
“Señor, it is my duty to arrest you,” he exclaimed dramatically. “Do not force my brave soldiers to use their weapons”
Hampton caught at a desperate chance. It was still possible that this spy had been too busy seeking for him to communicate with Doña Hermana—if this were so, then he had a chance to get clear.
“Señor capitan,” he said gravely, with a bow, “I fear there is some mistake, since I am no gringo but a Basque gentleman, and have done nothing which might cause my arrest.”
The officer bowed in return.
“Señor Basque, I am desolated, but duty is the master of all men. This worthy señor, well known to me, accuses you of having slain and robbed his brother. There is no doubt of your innocence, of course, but at the same time the accusation must be brought before the Jefe”
“If you will withdraw your brave soldiers, señor capitan,” said Hampton, “and allow me a moment private with this señor, who is evidently a gentleman of the gente fina, I will speedily convince him that he has mistaken me for another man.”
The officer turned to the scowling peon, who, hand on knife, was obviously puzzled by Hampton's calm acceptance of the situation. A word passed, then the officer assented.
“Very well, Señor Basque, but I implore you not to draw upon yourself the deadly fire of my men.”
The white-clad, barefoot soldiers withdrew in a wide semi-circle. The peon took a step forward, his eyes probing Hampton with a sneer.
“Well, gringo?” he demanded. “You think I can be mistaken, eh? You need not attempt to bribe me—you know whom I serve.”
“Fool!” said Hampton quietly. “Bobo that you are! Why have you not reported this affair to Doña Hermana? Now look at this token, and beware what you do!”
He handed the peon the little bone slab bearing the two characters. The peon held it to the light streaming from the hotel windows, and uttered a sudden gasp. His manner completely altered.
“Señor!” he exclaimed, passing it back to Hampton. “Señor—how was I to know? You answered the description, and those gringos told me your name—ay di mi! We have searched the hotel here for you—they said you were lodged here. Pardon this error, señor; I kiss your hands and feet”
Stammering incoherent apologies, the peon turned to the officer and with many appeals to the saints deplored the error that he had committed. He then appeased the officer's disgust with a few coins, and in two minutes the soldiers were marching away.
“Señor,” said the peon humbly, “I did not know that Señor Dias had sent”
Hampton was not slow to take a chance, if he might thus get rid of the man.
“Has anything been discovered of that Indian?” he demanded.
“You mean, señor, the hombre called El Hambre? No, but I have hopes”
“Then you will find him at Gorgona. Get out of the city, and reach Gorgona before dawn if possible—he will be there, unsuspecting. When you return, report this matter to Doña Hermana at once. You are not to arrest El Hambre, but have him put out of the way.”
“Si, si, those are the orders, señor,” exclaimed the other eagerly. “I can get out of the city and procure a good mule—si, it shall be done! Have you no other commands?”
“None,” said Hampton, “except to make haste.”
“This moment. Va usted con Dios, señor amo!”
“Hasta luego,” returned Hampton indifferently, and passed into the hotel.
That last farewell, couched in the phrase used only by men of Indian blood, told him that the peon regarded him as a superior; still, since the spy supposed him to be stopping in the hotel, it was as well to carry on the game. Hampton stood talking for a few minutes with a group of New York men, then, convinced that the spy had departed, he left the place, crossed the plaza, and made all haste toward the Inn of the Golden Pomegranates.
As he entered, old d'Aquila beckoned him into a corner.