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           ThisJewmighthavebeenverymuchfrightenedbytheaccident,butheknewwherethesilverwasconcealed,andhadinventedthisstory,withhisJewishcunning,toputhimentirelyoffthetrackastowhathadbeendone.

           Sotillohadtakenuphisquartersontheupperfloorinavastapartmentwithheavyblackbeams.Buttherewasnoceiling,andtheeyelostitselfinthedarknessunderthehighpitchoftheroof.Thethickshuttersstoodopen.Onalongtablecouldbeseenalargeinkstand,somestumpy,inkyquillpens,andtwosquarewoodenboxes,eachholdinghalfahundred-weightofsand.Sheetsofgreycoarseofficialpaperbestrewedthefloor.ItmusthavebeenaroomoccupiedbysomehigherofficialoftheCustoms,becausealargeleathernarmchairstoodbehindthetable,withotherhigh-backedchairsscatteredabout.Anethammockwasswungunderoneofthebeams—fortheofficial’safternoonsiesta,nodoubt.Acoupleofcandlesstuckintotallironcandlesticksgaveadimreddishlight.Thecolonel’shat,sword,andrevolverlaybetweenthem,andacoupleofhismoretrustyofficersloungedgloomilyagainstthetable.Thecolonelthrewhimselfintothearmchair,andabignegrowithasergeant’sstripesonhisraggedsleeve,kneelingdown,pulledoffhisboots.Sotillo’sebonymoustachecontrastedviolentlywiththelividcolouringofhischeeks.Hiseyesweresombreandasifsunkveryfarintohishead.