It was addressed to _Senor Nobody_.

It lay upon his knee, and it was Ian's hand.

His lips moved, his vision blurred.

Then came steadiness and he read.
What he read was a statement, at once tense and whimsical, of the predicament of the writer.

The latter, recognizing the confusion of thought among his captors, wrote because he must, but did not truly expect any aid from Senor Nobody.