wall. I've seen it. That's what William T. Scott did, an' up in New York
people think 'Billy' Scott is a fine man. I seen him at the Horse Show
sitting in a box, bowing to everybody, with his wife sitting beside him,
all hung out with pearls. An' that was only a month after I'd seen Rojas
in that sewer where Scott put him."

"Schnitzel," I laughed, "you certainly are a magnificent liar."

Schnitzel showed no resentment.

"Go ashore and look for yourself," he muttered. "Don't believe me. Ask
Rojas. Ask the first man you meet." He shivered, and shrugged his
shoulders. "I tell you, the walls are damp, like sweat."

The Government had telegraphed the commandant to come on board and, as
he expressed it, "offer me the hospitality of the port," which meant
that I had to take him to the smoking-room and give him champagne. What
the Government really wanted was to find out whether I was still on
board, and if it were finally rid of me.

I asked the official concerning Judge Rojas.

"Oh, yes," he said readily. "He is still _incommunicado_."

Without believing it would lead to anything, I suggested:

"It was foolish of him to give offence to Mr. Scott?"

The commandant nodded vivaciously.