"A price for body and soul." The sailor blew a ring of smoke and watched it rising to the vaulted roof of the cell.
"Some men," continued the man, "in their calm moments set their value at twenty million dollars--only to sell themselves in the heat of a foolish moment for----" He snapped his fingers.
"I have never," thought T. B., "come into contact with so many philosophical criminals in my life."
"Yet I would beg you to believe," said the sailor, "it is a question of opportunity and need. There are moments when I would not risk my liberty for a million pesetas--there have been days when I would have sold my soul for ten mil-reis."
He paused again, for he had all the Latin's appreciation of an audience; all the Latin's desire for dramatic effect.
"Sixty thousand pesetas is a large sum, monsieur; it amounts to more than £2,000 in your money--that was my price!"
"I will set you a riddle: on the _Maria Braganza_ we had one hundred officers and men----"
"You are a deserter from the _Maria Braganza_," he said--but the man shook his head smilingly.
"On the contrary I have my discharge from the navy, properly attested and signed by my good captain. You will find it at my lodgings, in a tin trunk under a picture of the blessed Saint Teresa of Avila, or, as some say, Sergovia. No, monsieur officer, I am discharged honourably. Listen."
His cigarette was nearly finished, and T. B. opened his case again, and the man, with a grateful inclination of his head, helped himself. Slowly, he began his story, a story which, before all others, helps the mind to grasp the magnitude of a combination which made the events he described possible.
"I was a sub-officer on the _Maria Braganza_," he began, and went on to narrate the history of the voyage of that remarkable battleship from the day it left Rio until it steamed into the roadstead off Cadiz.
"We stayed at Cadiz much longer than we expected, and the men were grumbling--because our next port was to have been Rio. But for some reason our Captain Lombrosa did not wish to sail. Then one day he came on board--he spent most of his time ashore--looking extremely happy. Previous to this he had lived and walked in gloom, as though some matter were preying on his mind. But this was all changed now. Whatever troubles he had were evaporated. He walked about the deck, smiling and cracking jokes, and we naturally concluded that he had received his orders to sail back to Brazil at once.