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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Yes," said Meakim, with a smile, "he's here." He looked at Holcombe curiously for a moment, and then exclaimed, with a laugh of intelligence, "Why, sure enough, you were Mr. Thatcher's lawyer in that case, weren't you? It was you got him his divorce?" Holcombe nodded. "Carroll was the man that made it possible, wasn't he?" Holcombe chafed under this catechism.
"Tut! you don't say?" commented Meakim, gravely. "Well, his sister's pretty near crazy about it. He give me the letter to read. It got me all stirred up. It was just writ in blood. She must be a fine girl, his sister. She says this Miss Martha's money was the last thing Allen took.
"The governor has just said that the Sultan won't be responsible for the lives of foreigners at night 'unless accompanied by soldier and lantern." "Yes, and the legations sent word that they wouldn't have it," broke in the other man. "They said they'd hold him responsible anyway." There was a silence, and Meakim moved in some slight uneasiness. "Mr. Holcombe, do you know Mr. Carroll?" he said.
The pig-sticking ended with a long luncheon before the ride back to town, at which everything that could be eaten or drunk was put on the table, in order, as Meakim explained, that there would be less to carry back. He met Holcombe that same evening after the cavalcade had reached Tangier as the latter came down the stairs of the Albion.
He touched his hat, and bent the whole upper part of his fat body in an awkward bow. "Excuse me, Mr. District Attorney," he began. "Oh, drop that, will you?" snapped Holcombe. "Now, what is it you want, Meakim?" "I was only going to say," answered the fugitive, with some offended dignity, "that as I've been here longer than you, I could perhaps give you pointers about the hotels.
But they know they don't dare go back, and they know that everybody at the table knows it, and that the servants behind them know it. But it's more easy that way. There's only a few of us here, and we've got to hang together or we'd go crazy." "That's so," said Meakim, approvingly. "It makes it more sociable." "It's a funny place," continued Carroll.
I've tried 'em all, and they're no good, but the Albion's the best." "Thank you, I'm sure," said Holcombe. "But I have been told to go to the Isabella." "Well, that's pretty good, too," Meakim answered, "if you don't mind the tables. They keep you awake most of the night, though, and " "The tables? I beg your pardon," said Holcombe, stiffly.
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