His glance, bent steadily on the door, had in it some of the alert, bright wistfulness frequently to be observed in the eyes of a terrier standing expectantly before a rat-hole. The instant the door opened and Dolores's tear-stained face appeared, he called to her with the old-time camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory of the tragedy of poor Don Juan Cafetéro and was concerned solely with the task of banishing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the joy of life back to that sweet face.
“Hello, Seeress,” he called weakly. “Little Johnny's been fighting again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping.”
There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her hot little palms clasping eagerly his pale, rough cheeks. “Oh, my dear, my dear!” she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy tears and she was sobbing on his wounded shoulder. Ricardo stooped to draw her away, but John Stuart bent upon him a look of such frightfulness that he drew back abashed. After all, the past twenty-four hours had been quite exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John's inamorata was tired and frightened and probably hadn't eaten anything all day long, so there was ample excuse for her hysteria.
“Come, come, buck up,” Webster soothed her, and helped himself to a long whiff of her fragrant hair. “Old man Webster had one leg in the grave, but they've pulled it out again.”
“Now, listen to me, lady,” he commanded with mock severity. “You just stop that. You're wasting your sympathy; and while, of course, I enjoy your sympathy a heap, just pause to reflect on the result if those salt tears should happen to drop into one of my numerous wounds.”
“I'm so sorry for you, Caliph,” she murmured brokenly. “You poor, harmless boy! I don't see how any one could be so fiendish as to hurt you when you were so distinctly a non-combatant.”
“Thank you. Let us forget the Hague Conference for the present, however. Have you met your brother?” he whispered.
“Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, bloodthirsty adventurer, I have a tremendous surprise in store for you. The sweetest girl in the world--and she's right here----”
Ricardo laughingly held up his hand. “Jack, my friend,” he interrupted, “you're too weak to make a speech. Don't do it. Besides, you do not have to.” He turned and bowed gracefully to Dolores. “I can see for myself she's the sweetest girl in the world, and that she's right here.” He held out his hand to her. “Jack thinks he's going to spring a surprise,” he continued maliciously, “quite forgetting that a good soldier never permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little secret, because I heard you mourning for him when you thought he was dead.” Ricardo favoured her with a knowing wink. “I am delighted to meet the future Mrs. Webster. I quite understand why you fell in love with him, because, you see, I love him myself and do does everybody else.”