"I guess that explains why we are here," one of the Americans replied.
"The South is the home of the dramatic surprise and this appeals to us.
In the North, they act by rule and one knows, more or less, what will
happen; but this gives one no chances to bet upon."
The fat German nodded. "It is the gambler's point of view. You people
take with pleasure steep chances, as they say, but mine act not so. The
system is better. One calculates beforehand what may happen and it is
provided for. If things do not go as one expects, one labors to change
them, and when this is not possible adopts an alternative plan."
"But there always is a plan, Señor Richter!" the Spaniard remarked.
Richter smiled. "With us, I think that is true. Luck is more fickle than
a woman and we like not the surprise. But our effort is to be prepared
for it."
"You're a pretty hard crowd to run up against," said the other American.
Jake, who had taken no part in the recent talk, and leaned languidly back
in his chair, turned his head as he heard footsteps in the patio. They
were quick and decided, as if somebody was coming straight towards the
table, but they stopped suddenly. This seemed strange and Jake, who had
caught a glimpse of a man in white clothes, looked round to see if
Kenwardine had made him a sign. The latter, however, was lighting his
pipe, but the Spaniard leaned forward a little, as if trying to see
across the patio. Jake thought he would find this difficult with the
light of the lamp in his eyes, but Richter, who sat opposite, got up and
reached across the table.
"With excuses, Don Sebastian, but the wine is on your side," he said, and
filled his glass from the decanter before he sat down.
In the meantime the man who had come in was waiting, but seemed to have
moved, because Jake could only see an indistinct figure in the gloom.
"Is that you, Enrique?" Kenwardine asked when he had lighted his pipe.
"Sí, señor," a voice answered, and Kenwardine made a sign of
dismissal.
"Bueno! You can tell me about it to-morrow. I am engaged now."
The footsteps began again and when they died away Kenwardine picked up
the cards.
"Shall we play for half an hour?" he asked.
The others agreed, but the stakes were moderate and nobody took much
interest in the game; and Jake presently left the house without seeing
anything more of Clare. He felt he had wasted the evening, but as he
walked back to the line he thought about the man whom Kenwardine had sent
away. He did not think the fellow was one of the servants, and it seemed
strange that Richter should have got up and stood in front of Don
Sebastian when the latter was trying to see across the patio. Still,
there was no apparent reason why the Spaniard should want to see who had
come in, and Jake dismissed the matter.