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"
My
aguardiente
,
"
said
Madama
,
with
pride
,
"
is
the
best
.
It
grows
,
in
beautiful
bottles
,
in
the
dark
places
among
the
banana-trees
.
Si
,
Señor
.
Only
at
midnight
can
they
be
picked
by
sailor-men
who
bring
them
,
before
daylight
comes
,
to
your
back
door
.
Good
aguardiente
is
a
verree
difficult
fruit
to
handle
,
Señor
Goodwin
.
"
Smuggling
,
in
Coralio
,
was
much
nearer
than
competition
to
being
the
life
of
trade
.
One
spoke
of
it
slyly
,
yet
with
a
certain
conceit
,
when
it
had
been
well
accomplished
.
"
You
have
guests
in
the
house
to-night
,
"
said
Goodwin
,
laying
a
silver
dollar
upon
the
counter
.
"
Why
not
?
"
said
Madama
,
counting
the
change
.
"
Two
;
but
the
smallest
while
finished
to
arrive
.
One
señor
,
not
quite
old
,
and
one
señorita
of
sufficient
handsomeness
.
To
their
rooms
they
have
ascended
,
not
desiring
the
to-eat
nor
the
to-drink
.
Two
rooms
--
Numero
9
and
Numero
10
.
"
"
I
was
expecting
that
gentleman
and
that
lady
,
"
said
Goodwin
.
"
I
have
important
negocios
that
must
be
transacted
.
Will
you
allow
me
to
see
them
?
"
"
Why
not
?
"
sighed
Madama
,
placidly
.
"
Why
should
not
Señor
Goodwin
ascend
and
speak
to
his
friends
?
Está
bueno
.
Room
Numero
9
and
room
Numero
10
.
"
Goodwin
loosened
in
his
coat
pocket
the
American
revolver
that
he
carried
,
and
ascended
the
steep
,
dark
stairway
.
In
the
hallway
above
,
the
saffron
light
from
a
hanging
lamp
allowed
him
to
select
the
gaudy
numbers
on
the
doors
.
He
turned
the
knob
of
Number
9
,
entered
and
closed
the
door
behind
him
.
If
that
was
Isabel
Guilbert
seated
by
the
table
in
that
poorly
furnished
room
,
report
had
failed
to
do
her
charms
justice
.
She
rested
her
head
upon
one
hand
.
