From what I have already written, you will doubtless have derived the impression that the Hotel of the Three Desires, while being a useful place of abode, was far from being the caravanserai of the luxurious order.  The stranger, whoever he might be, however, was either not fastidious, or as is more probable, was used to similar accommodation, for he paid as little attention to the perfume of the bar as he did to the dirt upon the floor and walls, and also upon the landlord’s hands.  Having stipulated for a room to himself, he desired to be shown to it forthwith, whereupon Manuel led him through the house to a small yard at the back, round which were several small cabins, dignified by the name of apartments.

“Splendeed,” said Manuel enthusiastically, throwing open the door of one of the rooms as he spoke.  “More splendeed than ever you saw.”

The stranger gave a ravenish sort of croak, which might have been a laugh or anything else, and then went in and closed the door abruptly behind him.  Having locked it, he took off his coat and hung it upon the handle, apparently conscious of the fact that the landlord had glued his eyes to the keyhole in order that he might, from a precautionary point of view, take further stock of his patron.  Foiled in his intention he returned to the bar, murmuring “Anglish Peeg” to himself as he did so.  In the meantime the stranger had seated himself upon the rough bed in the corner, and had taken a letter from his pocket.

“The Hotel of the Three Desires,” he reads, “and on March the fifteenth, without fail.”  There was a pause while he folded the letter up and placed it in his pocket.  Then he continued, “this is the hotel, and to-day is the fifteenth of March.  But why don’t they put in an appearance.  It isn’t like them to be late.  They’d better not play me any tricks or they’ll find I have lost none of my old power of retaliation.”

Having satisfied himself that it was impossible for any one to see into the room, either through the keyhole or by means of the window, he partially disrobed, and, when he had done so, unbuckled from round his waist a broad leather money-belt.  Seating himself on the bed once more he unfastened the strap of the pocket, and dribbled the contents on to the bed.  They consisted of three Napoleons, fifteen English sovereigns, four half-sovereigns, and eighteen one-franc pieces.  In his trouser-pocket he had four Mexican dollars, and some cosmopolitan change of small value.

“It’s not very much,” he muttered to himself after he had counted it, “but it ought to be sufficient for the business in hand.  If I hadn’t been fool enough to listen to that Frenchwoman on board, I shouldn’t have played cards, and then it would have been double.  Why the deuce wasn’t I able to get Monsieur ashore?  In that case I’d have got it all back, or I’d have known the reason why.”

The idea seemed to afford him some satisfaction, for he smiled, and then said to himself as if in terms of approbation, “By Jove, I believe you, my boy!”