The faithful henchman
of plain Mr. Jones, foreseeing many difficulties of a material order,
decided to keep the girl out of the governor's knowledge, out of his
sight, too, for as long a time as it could be managed. That, alas,
seemed to be at most a matter of a few hours; whereas Ricardo feared
that to get the affair properly going would take some days. Once well
started, he was not afraid of his gentleman failing him. As is often the
case with lawless natures, Ricardo's faith in any given individual was
of a simple, unquestioning character. For man must have some support in
life.
Cross-legged, his head drooping a little and perfectly still, he might
have been meditating in a bonze-like attitude upon the sacred syllable
"Om." It was a striking illustration of the untruth of appearances, for
his contempt for the world was of a severely practical kind. There was
nothing oriental about Ricardo but the amazing quietness of his pose.
Mr. Jones was also very quiet. He had let his head sink on the rolled-up
rug, and lay stretched out on his side with his back to the light. In
that position the shadows gathered in the cavities of his eyes made
them look perfectly empty. When he spoke, his ghostly voice had only to
travel a few inches straight into Ricardo's left ear.
"Why don't you say something, now that you've got me awake?"
"I wonder if you were sleeping as sound as you are trying to make out,
sir," said the unmoved Ricardo.
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