t nothing would induce him to
say a word while he remained so disgracefully bound, but his desire to
help the escape of the silver made him depart from this resolution. His
wits were very much at work. He detected in Sotillo a certain air of
doubt, of irresolution.

"That man," he said to himself, "is not certain of what he advances."
For all his pomposity in social intercourse, Captain Mitchell could meet
the realities of life in a resolute and ready spirit. Now he had
got over the first shock of the abominable treatment he was cool and
collected enough. The immense contempt he felt for Sotillo steadied him,
and he said oracularly, "No doubt it is well concealed by this time."

Sotillo, too, had time to cool down. "Muy bien, Mitchell," he said in a
cold and threatening manner. "But can you produce the Government receipt
for the royalty and the Custom House permit of embarkation, hey? Can
you? No. Then the silver has been removed illegally, and the guilty
shall be made to suffer, unless it is produced within five days from
this." He gave orders for the prisoner to be unbound and locked up in
one of the smaller rooms downstairs. He walked about the room, moody and
silent, till Captain Mitchell, with each of his arms held by a couple of
men, stood up, shook himself, and stamped his feet.

"How did you like to be tied up, Mitchell?" he asked, derisively.

"It is the most incredible, abominable use of power!" Captain Mitchell
declared in a loud voice. "And whatever your purpose, you shall gain
nothing from it, I can promise you."

The tall colonel, livid, with his coal-black ringlets and moustache,
crouched, as it were, to look into the eyes of the short, thick-set,
red-faced prisoner with rumpled white hair.

"That we shall see. You shall know my power a little better when I tie
you up to a potalon outside in the sun for a whole day." He drew himself
up haughtily, and made a sign for Captain Mitchell to be led away.

"What about my watch?" cried Captain Mitchell, hanging back from the
efforts of the men pulling him towards the door.

Sotillo turned to his officers. "No! But only listen to this picaro,
caballeros," he pronounced with affected scorn, and was answered by a
chorus of derisive laughter. "He demands his watch!" . . . He ran up
again to Captain Mitchell, for the desire to relieve his feelings by
inflicting blows and pain upon this Englishman was very strong within
him. "Your watch! You are a prisoner in w