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diff --git a/old/kdrt10.txt b/old/kdrt10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d40662 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/kdrt10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9625 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Kedar's Tents, by Henry Seton Merriman +(#2 in our series by Henry Seton Merriman) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: In Kedar's Tents + +Author: Henry Seton Merriman + +Release Date: June, 2004 [EBook #5987] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 8, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, IN KEDAR'S TENTS *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1909 Smith, Elder and Co. edition by Les +Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset. + + + +IN KEDAR'S TENTS +by Henry Seton Merriman. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER +I. ONE SOWETH. +II. ANOTHER REAPETH. +III. LIKE SHIPS UPON THE SEA. +IV. LE PREMIER PAS. +V. CONTRABAND. +VI. AT RONDA. +VII. IN A MOORISH GARDEN. +VIII. THE LOVE LETTER. +IX. A WAR OF WIT. +X. THE CITY OF DISCONTENT. +XI. A TANGLED WEB. +XII. ON THE TOLEDO ROAD. +XIII. A WISE IGNORAMUS. +XIV. A WEIGHT OF EVIDENCE. +XV. AN ULTIMATUM. +XVI. IN HONOUR. +XVII. IN MADRID. +XVIII. IN TOLEDO. +XIX. CONCEPCION TAKES THE ROAD. +XX. ON THE TALAVERA ROAD. +XXI. A CROSS-EXAMINATION. +XXII. REPARATION. +XXIII. LARRALDE'S PRICE. +XXIV. PRIESTCRAFT. +XXV. SWORDCRAFT. +XXVI. WOMANCRAFT. +XXVII. A NIGHT JOURNEY. +XXVIII. THE CITY OF STRIFE. +XXIX. MIDNIGHT AND DAWN. +XXX. THE DAWN OF PEACE. + + + +CHAPTER I. ONE SOWETH. + + + +'If it be a duty to respect other men's claims, so also is it a duty +to maintain our own.' + +It is in the staging of her comedies that fate shows herself +superior to mere human invention. While we, with careful regard to +scenery, place our conventional puppets on the stage and bid them +play their old old parts in a manner as ancient, she rings up the +curtain and starts a tragedy on a scene that has obviously been set +by the carpenter for a farce. She deals out the parts with a fine +inconsistency, and the jolly-faced little man is cast to play Romeo, +while the poetic youth with lantern jaw and an impaired digestion +finds no Juliet to match his love. + +Fate, with that playfulness which some take too seriously or quite +amiss, set her queer stage as long ago as 1838 for the comedy of +certain lives, and rang up the curtain one dark evening on no fitter +scene than the high road from Gateshead to Durham. It was raining +hard, and a fresh breeze from the south-east swept a salt rime from +the North Sea across a tract of land as bare and bleak as the waters +of that grim ocean. A hard, cold land this, where the iron that has +filled men's purses has also entered their souls. + +There had been a great meeting at Chester-le-Street of those who +were at this time beginning to be known as Chartists, and, the Act +having been lately passed that torchlight meetings were illegal, +this assembly had gathered by the light of a waning moon long since +hidden by the clouds. Amid the storm of wind and rain, orators had +expounded views as wild as the night itself, to which the hard- +visaged sons of Northumbria had listened with grunts of approval or +muttered words of discontent. A dangerous game to play--this +stirring up of the people's heart, and one that may at any moment +turn to the deepest earnest. + +Few thought at this time that the movement awakening in the working +centres of the North and Midlands was destined to spread with the +strange rapidity of popular passion--to spread and live for a +decade. Few of the Chartists expected to see the fulfilment of half +of their desires. Yet, to-day, a moiety of the People's Charter has +been granted. These voices crying in the night demanded an extended +suffrage, vote by ballot, and freedom for rich and poor alike to sit +in Parliament. Within the scope of one reign these demands have +been granted. + +The meeting at Chester-le-Street was no different from a hundred +others held in England at the same time. It was illegal, and yet +the authorities dared not to pronounce it so. It might prove +dangerous to those taking part in it. Lawyers said that the leaders +laid themselves open to the charge of high treason. In this +assembly as in others there were wirepullers--men playing their own +game, and from the safety of the rear pushing on those in front. +With one of these we have to do. With his mistake Fate raised the +curtain, and on the horizon of several lives arose a cloud no bigger +than a man's hand. + +Geoffrey Horner lived before his time, insomuch as he was a +gentleman-Radical. He was clever, and the world heeded not. He was +brilliant, well educated, capable of great achievements, and the +world refused to be astonished. Here were the makings of a +malcontent. A well-born Radical is one whom the world has refused +to accept at his own valuation. A wise man is ready to strike a +bargain with Fate. The wisest are those who ask much and then take +half. It is the coward who asks too little, and the fool who +imagines that he will receive without demanding. + +Horner had thrown in his lot with the Chartists in that spirit of +pique which makes a man marry the wrong woman because the right one +will have none of him. At the Chester-le-Street meeting he had +declared himself an upholder of moral persuasion, while in his heart +he pandered to those who knew only of physical force and placed +their reliance thereon. He had come from Durham with a contingent +of malcontents, and was now returning thither on foot in company +with the local leaders. These were intelligent mechanics seeking +clumsily and blindly enough what they knew to be the good of their +fellows. At their heels tramped the rank and file of the great +movement. The assembly was a subtle foreshadowing of things to +come--of Newport and the march of twenty thousand men, of violence +and bloodshed, of strife between brethren, and of justice nonplussed +and hesitating. + +The toil-worn miners were mostly silent, their dimly enlightened +intellects uneasily stirred by the words they had lately heard-- +their stubborn hearts full of a great hope with a minute misgiving +at the back of it. With this dangerous material Geoffrey Horner +proposed to play his game. + +Suddenly a voice was raised. + +'Mates,' it cried, at the cross-roads, 'let's go and smash +Pleydell's windows!' + +And a muttered acquiescence to the proposal swept through the moving +mass like a sullen breeze through reeds. + +The desire for action rustled among these men of few words and +mighty arms. + +Horner hurriedly consulted his colleagues. Was it wise to attempt +to exert an authority which was merely nominal? The principles of +Chartism were at this time to keep within the limits of the law, and +yet to hint, when such a course was safe, that stronger measures lay +behind mere words. Their fatal habit was to strike softly. + +In peace and war, at home and abroad, there is but one humane and +safe rule: Hesitate to strike--strike hard. + +Sir John Pleydell was a member of that Parliament which had treated +the Charter with contempt. He was one of those who had voted with +the majority against the measures it embodied. + +In addition to these damnatory facts, he was a local Tory of some +renown--an ambitious man, the neighbours said, who wished to leave +his son a peerage. + +To the minds of the rabble this magnate represented the tyranny +against which their protest was raised. Geoffrey Horner looked on +him as a political opponent and a dangerous member of the winning +party. The blow was easy to strike. Horner hesitated--at the cross +roads of other lives than his own--and held his tongue. + +The suggestion of the unknown humorist in the crowd commended itself +to the more energetic of the party, who immediately turned towards +the by-road leading to Dene Hall. The others--the minority-- +followed as minorities do, because they distrusted themselves. Some +one struck up a song with words lately published in the 'Northern +Liberator' and set to a well-known local air. + +The shooting party assembled at Dene Hall was still at the dinner +table when the malcontents entered the park, and the talk of coverts +and guns ceased suddenly at the sound of their rough voices. Sir +John Pleydell, an alert man still, despite his grey hair and drawn, +careworn face, looked up sharply. He had been sitting silently +fingering the stem of his wineglass--a habit of his when the ladies +quitted the room--and, although he had shot as well as, perhaps +better than, any present, had taken but little part in the +conversation. He had, in fact, only half listened, and when a rare +smile passed across his grey face it invariably owed its existence +to some sally made by his son, Alfred Pleydell, gay, light-hearted, +debonnaire, at the far end of the table. When Sir John's thoughtful +eyes rested on his motherless son, a dull and suppressed light +gleamed momentarily beneath his heavy lids. Superficial observers +said that John Pleydell was an ambitious man; 'not for himself,' +added the few who saw deeper. + +When his quick mind now took in the import of the sound that broke +the outer silence of the night, Sir John's glance sought his son's +face. In moments of alarm the glance flies to where the heart is. + +'What is that?' asked Alfred Pleydell, standing up. + +'The Chartists,' said Sir John. + +Alfred looked round. He was a soldier, though the ink had hardly +dried upon the parchment that made him one--the only soldier in the +room. + +'We are eleven here,' he said, 'and two men downstairs--some of you +fellows have your valets too--say fifteen in all. We cannot stand +this, you know. ' + +As he spoke the first volley of stones crashed through the windows, +and the broken glass rattled to the floor behind the shutters. The +cries of the ladies in the drawing-room could be heard, and all the +men sprang to their feet. With blazing eyes Alfred Pleydell ran to +the door, but his father was there before him. + +'Not you,' said the elder man, quiet but a little paler than usual; +'I will go and speak to them. They will not dare to touch me. They +are probably running away by this time. ' + +'Then we'll run after 'em,' answered Alfred with a fine spirit, and +something in his attitude, in the ring of his voice, awoke that +demon of combativeness which lies dormant in men of the Anglo-Saxon +race. + +'Come on, you fellows!' cried the boy with a queer glad laugh, and +without knowing that he did it Sir John stood aside, his heart warm +with a sudden pride, his blood stirred by something that had not +moved it these thirty years. The guests crowded out of the room-- +old men who should have known better--laughing as they threw aside +their dinner napkins. What a strange thing is man, peaceful through +long years, and at a moment's notice a mere fighting devil. + +'Come on, we'll teach them to break windows!' repeated Alfred +Pleydell, running to the stick rack. The rain rattled on the +skylight of the square hall, and the wind roared down the open +chimney. Among the men hastily arming themselves with heavy sticks +and cramming caps upon their heads were some who had tasted of +rheumatism, but they never thought of an overcoat. + +'We'll know each other by our shirt fronts,' said a quiet man who +was standing on a chair in order to reach an Indian club suspended +on the wall. + +Alfred was at the door leading through to the servants' quarters, +and his summons brought several men from the pantry and kitchens. + +'Come on!' he cried, 'take anything you can find--stick or poker-- +yes, and those old guns, use 'em like a club, hit very hard and very +often. We'll charge the devils--there's nothing like a charge--come +on!' + +And he was already out of the door with a dozen at his heels. + +The change from the lighted rooms to the outer darkness made them +pause a moment, during which time the defenders had leisure to group +themselves around Alfred Pleydell. A hoarse shout, which indeed +drowned Geoffrey Horner's voice, showed where the assailants stood. +Horner had found his tongue after the first volley of stones. It +was the policy of the Chartist leaders and wirepullers to suggest +rather than demonstrate physical force. Enough had been done to +call attention to the Chester-le-Street meeting, and give it the +desired prominence in the eyes of the nation. + +'Get back, go to your homes!' he was shouting, with upraised arms, +when the hoarse cry of his adherents and the flood of light from the +opened door made him turn hastily. In a moment he saw the meaning +of this development, but it was too late. + +With a cheer, Alfred Pleydell, little more than a boy, led the +charge, and seeing Horner in front, ran at him with upraised stick. +Horner half warded the blow, which came whistling down his own stick +and paralysed his thumb. He returned the stroke with a sudden fury, +striking Pleydell full on the head. Then, because he had a young +wife and child at home, he pushed his way through the struggling +crowd, and ran away in the darkness. As he ran he could hear his +late adherents dispersing in all directions, like sheep before a +dog. He heard a voice calling: + +'Alfred! Alfred!' + +And Horner, who an hour--nay, ten minutes--earlier had had no +thought of violence, ran his fastest along the road by which he had +lately come. His heart was as water within his breast, and his +staring eyes played their part mechanically. He did not fall, but +he noted nothing, and had no knowledge whither he was running. + +Alfred Pleydell lay quite still on the lawn in front of his father's +house. + + + +CHAPTER II. ANOTHER REAPETH. + + + +'Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt.' + +During the course of a harum-scarum youth in the city of Dublin +certain persons had been known to predict that Mr. Frederick +Conyngham had a future before him. Mostly pleasant-spoken Irish +persons these, who had the racial habit of saying that which is +likely to be welcome. Many of them added, 'the young divil,' under +their breath, in a pious hope of thereby cleansing their souls from +guilt. + +'I suppose I'm idle, and what is worse, I know I'm a fool,' said +Conyngham himself to his tutor when that gentleman, with a +toleration which was undeserved, took him severely to task before +sending him up for the Bar examination. The tutor said nothing, but +he suspected that this, his wildest pupil, was no fool. Truth to +tell, Frederick Conyngham had devoted little thought to the matter +of which he spoke, namely, himself, and was perhaps none the worse +for that. A young man who thinks too often usually falls into the +error of also thinking too much, of himself. + +The examination was, however, safely passed, and in due course +Frederick was called to the Irish Bar, where a Queen's Counsel, with +an accent like rich wine, told him that he was now a gintleman, and +entitled so to call himself. + +All these events were left behind, and Conyngham, sitting alone in +his rooms in Norfolk Street, Strand, three days after the breaking +of Sir John Pleydell's windows, was engaged in realising that the +predicted future was still in every sense before him, and in nowise +nearer than it had been in his mother's lifetime. + +This realisation of an unpleasant fact appeared in no way to disturb +his equanimity, for, as he knocked his pipe against the bars of the +fire, he murmured a popular air in a careless voice. The firelight +showed his face to be pleasant enough in a way that left the land of +his birth undoubted. Blue eyes, quick and kind; a square chin, +closely curling hair, and square shoulders bespoke an Irishman. +Something, however, in the cut of his lips--something close and +firm--suggested an admixture of Anglo-Saxon blood. The man looked +as if he might have had an English mother. It was perhaps this +formation of the mouth that had led those pleasant-spoken persons to +name to his relatives their conviction that Conyngham had a future +before him. The best liars are those who base their fancy upon +fact. They knew that the ordinary thoroughbred Irishman has usually +a cheerful enough life before him, but not that which is vaguely +called a future. Fred Conyngham looked like a man who could hold to +his purpose, but at this moment he also had the unfortunate +appearance of not possessing one to hold to. + +He knocked the ashes from his pipe, and held the hot briar bowl +against the ear of a sleeping fox terrier, which animal growled, +without moving, in a manner that suggested its possession of a sense +of humour and a full comprehension of the harmless practical joke. + +A moment later the dog sat up and listened with an interest that +gradually increased until the door opened and Geoffrey Horner came +into the room. + +'Faith, it's Horner!' said Conyngham. 'Where are you from?' + +'The North.' + +'Ah--sit down. What have you been doing up there--tub-thumping?' + +Horner came forward and sat down in the chair indicated. He looked +five years older than when he had last been there. Conyngham +glanced at his friend, who was staring into the fire. + +'Edith all right?' he asked carelessly. + +'Yes.' + +'And--the little chap?' + +'Yes.' + +Conyngham glanced at his companion again. Horner's eyes had the +hard look that comes from hopelessness; his lips were dry and white. +He wore the air of one whose stake in the game of life was heavy, +who played that game nervously. For this was an ambitious man with +wife and child whom he loved. Conyngham's attitude towards Fate was +in strong contrast. He held his head up and faced the world without +encumbrance, without a settled ambition, without any sense of +responsibility at all. The sharp-eyed dog on the hearthrug looked +from one to the other. A moment before, the atmosphere of the room +had been one of ease and comfortable assurance--an atmosphere that +some men, without any warrant or the justification of personal +success or distinction, seem to carry with them through life. Since +Horner had crossed the threshold the ceaseless hum of the streets +seemed to be nearer, the sound of it louder in the room; the +restlessness of that great strife stirred the air. The fox terrier +laid himself on the hearthrug again, but instead of sleeping watched +his two human companions. + +Conyngham filled his pipe. He turned to the table where the +matchbox stood at his elbow, took it up, rattled it, and laid it +down. He pressed the tobacco hard with his thumb, and, turning to +Horner, said sharply: + +'What is it?' + +'I don't know yet; ruin, I think.' + +'Nonsense, man!' said Conyngham cheerily. 'There is no such thing +in this world. At least, the jolliest fellows I know are bankrupts, +or no better. Look at me: never a brief; literary contributions +returned with thanks; balance at the bank, seventeen pounds ten +shillings; balance in hand, none; debts, the Lord only knows! Look +at me! I'm happy enough.' + +'Yes, you're a lonely devil.' + +Conyngham looked at his friend with inquiry in his gay eyes. + +'Ah! perhaps so. I live alone, if that is what you mean. But as +for being lonely--no, hang it! I have plenty of friends, especially +at dividend time.' + +'You have nobody depending on you,' said Horner with the +irritability of sorrow. + +'Because nobody is such a fool. On the other hand, I have nobody to +care a twopenny curse what becomes of me. Same thing, you see, in +the end. Come, man, cheer up. Tell me what is wrong. Seventeen +pounds ten shillings is not exactly wealth, but if you want it you +know it is there, eh?' + +'I do not want it, thanks,' replied the other. 'Seventeen hundred +would be no good to me. ' + +He paused, biting his under lip and staring with hard eyes into the +fire. + +'Read that,' he said at length, and handed Conyngham a cutting from +a daily newspaper. + +The younger man read, without apparent interest, an account of the +Chester-le-Street meeting, and the subsequent attack on Sir John +Pleydell's house. + +'Yes,' he commented, 'the usual thing. Brave words followed by a +cowardly deed. What in the name of fortune you were doing in that +galere you yourself know best. If these are politics, Horner, I say +drop them. Politics are a stick, clean enough at the top, but +you've got hold of the wrong end. Young Pleydell was hurt, I see-- +"seriously, it is feared."' + +'Yes,' said Horner significantly; and his companion, after a quick +look of surprise, read the slip of paper carefully a second time. +Then he looked up and met Horner's eyes. + +'Gad!' he exclaimed in a whisper. + +Horner said nothing. The dog moved restlessly, and for a moment the +whole world--that sleepless world of the streets--seemed to hold its +breath. + +'And if he dies,' said Conyngham at length. + +'Exactly so,' answered the other with a laugh--of scaffold mirth. + +Conyngham turned in his chair and sat with his elbows on his knees, +his face resting on his closed fists, staring at the worn old +hearthrug. Thus they remained for some minutes. + +'What are you thinking about?' asked Horner at length. + +'Nothing--got nothing to think with. You know that, Geoffrey. Wish +I had--never wanted it as I do at this moment. I'm no good, you +know that. You must go to some one with brains--some clever devil.' + +As he spoke he turned and took up the paper again, reading the +paragraph slowly and carefully. Horner looked at him with a +breathless hunger in his eyes. At some moments it is a crime to +think, for we never know but that thought may be transmitted without +so much as a whisper. + +'"The miners were accompanied by a gentleman from London,"' +Conyngham read aloud, '"a barrister, it is supposed, whose speech +was a feature of the Chester le-Street meeting. This gentleman's +name is quite unknown, nor has his whereabouts yet been discovered. +His sudden disappearance lends likelihood to the report that this +unknown agitator actually struck the blow which injured Mr. Alfred +Pleydell. Every exertion is being put forth by the authorities to +trace the man who is possibly a felon and certainly a coward."' + +Conyngham laid aside the paper and again looked at Horner, who did +not meet his glance nor ask now of what he was thinking. Horner, +indeed, had his own thoughts, perhaps of the fireside--modest +enough, but happy as love and health could make it--upon which his +own ambition had brought down the ruins of a hundred castles in the +air--thoughts he scarce could face, no doubt, and yet had no power +to drive away, of the young wife whose world was that same fireside; +of the child, perhaps, whose coming had opened for a time the door +of Paradise. + +Conyngham broke in upon these meditations with a laugh. + +'I have it!' he cried. 'It's as simple as the alphabet. This paper +says it was a barrister--a man from London--a malcontent, a felon, a +coward. Dammy, Geoff--that's me!' + +He leapt to his feet. 'Get out of the way, Tim!' he cried to the +dog, pushing the animal aside and standing on the hearthrug. + +'Listen to this,' he went on. 'This thing, like the others, will +blow over. It will be forgotten in a week. Another meeting will be +held--say in South Wales, more windows will be broken, another young +man's head cracked, and Chester-le-Street (God-forsaken place, never +heard of it!) will be forgotten.' + +Horner sat looking with hollow eyes at the young Irishman, his lips +twitching, his fingers interlocked--there is nothing makes so +complete a coward of a man as a woman's love. Conyngham laughed as +the notion unfolded itself in his mind. He might, as he himself had +said, be of no great brain power, but he was at all events a man and +a brave one. He stood a full six foot, and looked down at his +companion, who sat whitefaced and shrinking. + +'It is quite easy,' he said, 'for me to disappear in such a manner +as to arouse suspicion. I have nothing to keep me here; my briefs-- +well, the Solicitor-General can have 'em! I have no ties--nothing +to keep me in any part of the world. When young Pleydell is on his +feet again, and a few more windows have been broken, and nine days +have elapsed, the wonder will give place to another, and I can +return to my--practice.' + +'I couldn't let you do it.' + +'Oh yes, you could,' said Conyngham with the quickness of his race +to spy out his neighbour's vulnerable point. 'For the sake of Edith +and the little devil.' + +Horner sat silent, and after a moment Conyngham went on. + +'All we want to do is to divert suspicion from you now--to put them +on a false scent, for they must have one of some sort. When they +find that they cannot catch me they will forget all about it.' + +Horner shuffled in his seat. This was nothing but detection of the +thoughts that had passed through his own mind. + +'It is easily enough done,' went on the Irishman. 'A paragraph here +and there in some of the newspapers; a few incriminating papers left +in these rooms, which are certain to be searched. I have a bad +name--an Irish dog goes about the world with a rope round his neck. +If I am caught it will not be for some time, and then I can get out +of it somehow--an alibi or something. I'll get a brief at all +events. By that time the scent will be lost, and it will be all +right. Come, Geoff, cheer up! A man of your sort ought not to be +thrown by a mischance like this.' + +He stood with his legs apart, his hands thrust deep into his +pockets, a gay laugh on his lips, and much discernment in his eyes. + +'Oh, d---n Edith!' he added after a pause, seeing that his efforts +met with no response. 'D---n that child! You used to have some +pluck, Horner.' Horner shook his head and made no answer, but his +very silence was a point gained. He no longer protested nor raised +any objection to his companion's hare-brained scheme. The thing was +feasible, and he knew it. + +Conyngham went on to set forth his plans, which with characteristic +rapidity of thought he evolved as he spoke. + +'Above all,' he said, 'we must be prompt. I must disappear to- +night, the paragraphs must be in to-morrow's papers. I think I'll +go to Spain. The Carlists seem to be making things lively there. +You know, Horner, I was never meant for a wig and gown--there's no +doubt about that. I shall have a splendid time of it out there--' + +He stopped, meeting a queer look in Horner's eyes, who sat leaning +forward and searching his face with jealous glance. + +'I was wondering,' said the other, with a pale smile, 'if you were +ever in love with Edith.' + +'No, my good soul, I was not,' answered Conyngham, with perfect +carelessness, 'though I knew her long before you did.' + +He paused, and a quick thought flashed through his mind that some +men are seen at their worst in adversity. He was ready enough to +find excuses for Horner, for men are strange in the gift of their +friendship, often bestowing it where they know it is but ill +deserved. + +He rattled on with unbroken gaiety, unfolding plans which in their +perfection of detail suggested a previous experience in outrunning +the constable. + +While they were still talking a mutual friend came in--a quick- +spoken man already beginning to be known as a journalist of ability. +They talked on indifferent topics for some time. Then the new-comer +said jerkily: + +'Heard the news?' + +'No,' answered Conyngham. + +'Alfred Pleydell--young fellow who resisted the Chartist rioters at +Durham--died yesterday morning.' Frederick Conyngham had placed +himself in front of Horner, who was still seated in the low chair by +the fire. He found Horner's toe with his heel. + +'Is that so?' he said gravely. 'Then I'm off.' + +'What do you mean?' asked the journalist with a quick look--the man +had the manner of a ferret. + +'Nothing, only I'm off, that's all, old man. And I cannot ask you +to stay this evening, you understand, because I have to pack.' + +He turned slowly on Horner, who had recovered himself, but still had +his hand over his face. + +'Got any money, Geoff?' he asked. + +'Yes, I have twenty pounds if you want it,' answered the other in a +hoarse voice. + +'I do want it--badly.' + +The journalist had taken up his hat and stick. He moved slowly +towards the door, and, there pausing, saw Horner pass the bank-notes +to Conyngham. + +'You had better go too,' said the Irishman. 'You two are going in +the same direction, I know.' + +Horner rose, and, half laughing, Conyngham pushed him towards the +door. + +'See him home, Blake,' he said. 'Horner has the blues to-night.' + + + +CHAPTER III. LIKE SHIPS UPON THE SEA. + + + +'No one can be more wise than destiny.' + +'What are we waiting for? why, two more passengers--grand ladies as +they tell me--and the captain has gone ashore to fetch them,' the +first mate of the 'Granville' barque, of London, made answer to +Frederick Conyngham, and he breathed on his fingers as he spoke, for +the north-west wind was blowing across the plains of the Medoc, and +the sun had just set behind the smoke of Bordeaux. + +The 'Granville' was lying at anchor in the middle of the Garonne +river, having safely discharged her deck cargo of empty claret casks +and landed a certain number of passengers. There are few colder +spots on the Continent than the sunny town of Bordeaux when the west +wind blows from Atlantic wastes in winter time. A fine powder of +snow scudded across the flat land, which presented a bleak brown +face, patched here and there with white. There were two more +passengers on board the 'Granville,' crouching in the cabin--two +French gentlemen who had taken passage from London to Algeciras in +Spain, on their way to Algiers. + +Conyngham, with characteristic good-nature, had made himself so +entirely at home on board the Mediterranean trader that his presence +was equally welcomed in the forecastle and the captain's cabin. +Even the first mate, his present interlocutor, a grim man given to +muttered abuse of his calling and a pious pessimism in respect to +human nature, gradually thawed under the influence of so cheerful an +acceptance of heavy weather and a clumsy deck cargo. + +'The ladies will be less trouble than the empty casks, at all +events,' said Conyngham, 'because they will keep below.' + +The sailor shook his head forebodingly and took an heroic pinch of +snuff. + +'One's as capable of carrying mischief as the other,' he muttered in +the bigoted voice of a married teetotaller. + +The ship was ready for sea, and this mariner's spirit was ever +uneasy and restless till the anchor was on deck and the hawser +stowed. + +'There's a boat leaving the quay now,' he added. 'Seems she's +lumbered up forr'ard wi' women's hamper.' + +And indeed the black form of a skiff so laden could be seen +approaching through the driving snow and gloom. The mate called to +the steward to come on deck, and this bearded servitor of dames +emerged from the galley with uprolled sleeves and a fine contempt +for cold winds. A boy went forward with a coil of rope on his arm, +for the tide was running hard and the Garonne is no ladies' pleasure +stream. It is not an easy matter to board a ship in mid-current +when tide and wind are at variance, and the fingers so cold that a +rope slips through them like a log-line. The 'Granville,' having +still on board her cargo of coals for Algeciras, lay low in the +water with both her anchors out and the tide singing round her old- +fashioned hempen hawsers. + +'Now see ye throw a clear rope,' shouted the mate to the boy who had +gone forward. The proximity of the land and the approach of women-- +a bete noire no less dreaded--seemed to flurry the brined spirit of +the Granville's' mate. + +Perhaps the knowledge that the end of a rope, not judged clear, +would inevitably be applied to his own person, shook the nerve of +the boy on the forecastle--perhaps his hands were cold and his +faculties benumbed. He cast a line which seemed to promise well at +first. Two coils of it unfolded themselves gracefully against the +grey sky, and then Confusion took the others for herself. A British +oath from the deck of the ship went out to meet a fine French +explosion of profanity from the boat, both forestalling the splash +of the tangled rope into the water under the bows of the ship, and a +full ten yards out of the reach of the man who stood, boathook in +hand, ready to catch it. There were two ladies in the stern of the +boat, muffled up to the eyes, and betokening by their attitude the +hopeless despair and misery which seize the southern fair the moment +they embark in so much as a ferry boat. The fore part of the heavy +craft was piled up with trunks and other impedimenta of a feminine +incongruity. A single boatman had rowed the boat from the shore, +guiding it into mid-stream, and there describing a circle calculated +to insure a gentle approach on the lee side. This man, having laid +aside his oars, now stood, boathook in hand, awaiting the inevitable +crash. The offending boy in the bows was making frantic efforts to +haul in his misguided rope, but the possibility of making a second +cast was unworthy of consideration. The mate muttered such a string +of foreboding expletives as augured ill for the delinquent. The +boatman was preparing to hold on and fend off at the same moment--a +sudden gust of wind gave the boat a sharp buffet just as the man +grappled the mizzen-chains--he overbalanced himself, fell, and +recovered himself, but only to be jerked backwards into the water by +the boathook, which struck him in the chest. + +'A moi!' cried the man, and disappeared in the muddy water. He rose +to the surface under the ship's quarter, and the mate, quick as +lightning, dumped the whole coil of the slack of the main sheet on +to the top of him. In a moment he was at the level of the rail, the +mate and the steward hauling steadily on the rope, to which he clung +with the tenacity and somewhat the attitude of a monkey. At the +same instant a splash made the rescuers turn in time to see +Conyngham, whose coat lay thrown on the deck behind them, rise to +the surface ten yards astern of the 'Granville' and strike out +towards the boat, now almost disappearing in the gloom of night. + +The water, which had flowed through the sunniest of the sunny plains +of France, was surprisingly warm, and Conyngham, soon recovering +from the shock of his dive, settled into a quick side-stroke. The +boat was close in front of him, and in the semi-darkness he could +see one of the women rise from her seat and make her way forward, +while her companion crouched lower and gave voice to her dismay in a +series of wails and groans. The more intrepid lady was engaged in +lifting one of the heavy oars, when Conyngham called out in French: + +'Courage, mesdames! I will be with you in a moment.' + +Both turned, and the pallor of their faces shone whitely through the +gloom. Neither spoke, and in a few strokes Conyngham came +alongside. He clutched the gunwale with his right hand, and drew +himself breast high. + +'If these ladies,' he said, 'will kindly go to the opposite side of +the boat, I shall be able to climb in without danger of upsetting.' + +'If mama inclines that way I think it will be sufficient,' answered +the muffled form which had made its way forward. The voice was +clear and low, remarkably self-possessed, and not without a +suggestion that its possessor bore a grudge against some person +present. + +'Perhaps mademoiselle is right,' said Conyngham with becoming +gravity, and the lady in the stern obeyed her daughter's suggestion, +with the result anticipated. Indeed, the boat heeled over with so +much goodwill that Conyngham was lifted right out of the water. He +clambered on board and immediately began shivering, for the wind cut +like a knife. + +The younger lady made her way cautiously back to the seat which she +had recently quitted, and began at once to speak very severely to +her mother. This stout and emotional person was swaying backwards +and forwards, and, in the intervals of wailing and groaning, called +in Spanish upon several selected saints to assist her. At times, +and apparently by way of a change, she appealed to yet higher powers +to receive her soul. + +'My mother,' said the young lady to Conyngham, who had already got +the oars out, 'has the heart of a rabbit, but--yes--of a very young +rabbit.' + +'Madame may rest assured that there is no danger,' said Conyngham. + +'Monsieur is an Englishman--' + +'Yes, and a very cold one at the moment. If madame could restrain +her religious enthusiasm so much as to sit still, we should make +better progress.' + +He spoke rather curtly, as if refusing to admit the advisability of +manning the boat with a crew of black-letter saints. The manner in +which the craft leapt forward under each stroke of the oars +testified to the strength of his arms, and madame presently subsided +into whispers of thankfulness, having reason, it would seem, to be +content with mere earthly aid in lieu of that heavenly intervention +which ladies of her species summon at every turn of life. + +'I wish I could help you,' said the younger woman presently, in a +voice and manner suggestive of an energy unusual to her +countrywomen. She spoke in French, but with an accent somewhat +round and full, like an English accent, and Conyngham divined that +she was Spanish. He thought also that under their outer wraps the +ladies wore the mantilla, and had that graceful carriage of the head +which is only seen in the Peninsula. + +'Thank you, mademoiselle, but I am making good progress now. Can +you see the ship?' + +She rose and stood peering into the darkness ahead--a graceful, +swaying figure. A faint scent as of some flower was wafted on the +keen wind to Conyngham, who had already decided with characteristic +haste that this young person was as beautiful as she was intrepid. + +'Yes,' she answered, 'it is quite close. They are also showing +lights to guide us.' + +She stood looking apparently over his head towards the 'Granville,' +but when she spoke it would seem that her thoughts had not been +fixed on that vessel. + +'Is monsieur a sailor?' + +'No, but I fortunately have a little knowledge of such matters-- +fortunate, since I have been able to turn it to the use of these +ladies.' + +'But you are travelling in the "Granville."' + +'Yes; I am travelling in the "Granville."' + +Over his oars Conyngham looked hard at his interlocutrice, but could +discern nothing of her features. Her voice interested him, however, +and he wondered whether there were ever calms on the coast of Spain +at this time of the year. + +'Our sailors,' said the young lady, 'in Spain are brave, but they +are very cautious. I think none of them would have done such a +thing as you have just done for us. We were in danger. I knew it. +Was it not so?' + +'The boat might have drifted against some ship at anchor and been +upset. You might also have been driven out to sea. They had no +boat on board the "Granville" ready to put out and follow you.' + +'Yes; and you saved us. But you English are of a great courage. +And my mother, instead of thanking you, is offering her gratitude to +James and John the sons of Zebedee, as if they had done it.' + +'I am no relation to Zebedee,' said Conyngham with a gay laugh. +'Madame may rest assured of that.' + +'Julia,' said the elder lady severely, and in a voice that seemed to +emanate from a chest as deep and hollow as an octave cask, 'I shall +tell Father Concha, who will assuredly reprove you. The saints upon +whom I called were fishermen, and therefore the more capable of +understanding our great danger. As for monsieur, he knows that he +shall always be in my prayers.' + +'Thank you, madame,' said Conyngham gravely. + +'And at a fitter time I hope to be able to tender him my thanks.' + +At this moment a voice from the 'Granville' hailed the boat, asking +whether all was well and Mr. Conyngham on board. Being reassured on +this point, the mate apparently attended to another matter requiring +his attention, the mingled cries and expostulations of the cabin boy +sufficiently indicating its nature. + +The boat, under Conyngham's strong and steady strokes, now came +slowly and without mishap alongside the great black hull of the +vessel, and it soon became manifest that, although all danger was +past, there yet remained difficulty ahead; for when the boat was +made fast and the ladder lowered, the elder of the two ladies firmly +and emphatically denied her ability to make the ascent. The French +boatman, shivering in a borrowed great coat, and with a vociferation +which flavoured the air with cognac, added his entreaties to those +of the mate and steward. In the small boat Conyngham, in French, +and the lady's daughter, in Spanish, represented that at least half +of the heavenly host, having intervened to save her from so great a +peril as that safely passed through, could surely accomplish this +smaller feat with ease. But the lady still hesitated, and the mate, +having clambered down into the boat, grabbed Conyngham's arm with a +large and not unkindly hand, and pushed him forcibly towards the +ladder. + +'You hadn't got no business, Mr. Conyngham,' he said gruffly, 'to +leave the ship like that, and like as not you've got your death of +cold. Just you get aboard and leave these women to me. You get to +your bunk, mister, and stooard'll bring you something hot.' + +There was nought but obedience in the matter, and Conyngham was soon +between the blankets, alternately shivering and burning in the first +stages of a severe chill. + +The captain having come on board, the 'Granville' presently weighed +anchor, and on the bosom of an ebbing tide turned her blunt prow +towards the winter sea. The waves out there beat high, and before +the lights of Pauillac, then a mere cluster of fishers' huts, had +passed away astern, the good ship was lifting her bow with a sense +of anticipation, while her great wooden beams and knees began to +strain and creak. + +During the following days, while the sense of spring and warmth +slowly gave life to those who could breathe the air on deck, +Conyngham lay in his little cabin and heeded nothing; for when the +fever left him he was only conscious of a great lassitude, and +scarce could raise himself to take such nourishment as the steward, +with a rough but kindly skill, prepared for him. + +'Why the deuce I ever came--why the deuce I ever went overboard +after a couple of senoras--I don't know,' he repeated to himself +during the hours of that long watch below. + +Why, indeed? except that youth must needs go forth into the world +and play the only stake it owns there. Nor is Frederick Conyngham +the first who, having no knowledge of the game of life, throws all +upon the board to wait upon the hazard of a die. + + + +CHAPTER IV. LE PREMIER PAS. + + + +'Be as one that knoweth and yet holdeth his tongue.' + +The little town of Algeciras lies, as many know, within sight of +Gibraltar, and separated from that stronghold by a broad bay. It is +on the mainland of Spain, and in direct communication by road with +the great port of Cadiz. Another road, little better than a bridle- +path, runs northward to Ximena and through the corkwood forests of +that plain towards the mountain ranges that rise between Ronda and +the sea. + +By this bridle-path, it is whispered, a vast smuggled commerce has +ever found passage to the mainland, and scarce a boatman or +passenger lands at Algeciras from Gibraltar but carries somewhere on +his person as much tobacco as he may hope to conceal with safety. +Algeciras, with its fair white houses, its prim church, and sleepy +quay, where the blue waters lap and sparkle in innocent sunlight, +is, it is to be feared, a town of small virtue and the habitation of +scoundrels. For this is the stronghold of those contrabandistas +whom song and legend have praised as the boldest, the merriest, and +most romantic of law-breakers. Indeed, in this country the man who +can boast of a smuggling ancestry holds high his head and looks down +on honest folk. + +The 'Granville' having dropped anchor to the north of the rough +stone pier, was soon disburdened of her passengers--the ladies going +ashore with undisguised delight, and leaving behind them many +gracious messages of thanks to the gentleman whose gallantry had +resulted so disastrously; for Conyngham was still in bed, though now +nearly recovered. Truth to tell, he did not hurry to make his +appearance in the general cabin, and came on deck a few hours after +the departure of the ladies, whose gratitude he desired to avoid. + +Two days of the peerless sunshine of these southern waters +completely restored him to health, and he prepared to go ashore. It +was afternoon when his boat touched the beach, and the idlers, +without whom no Mediterranean seaboard is complete, having passed +the heat of the day in a philosophic apathy amounting in many cases +to a siesta, now roused themselves sufficiently to take a dignified +and indifferent interest in the new arrival. A number of boys, an +old soldier, several artillerymen from the pretty and absolutely +useless fort, a priest and a female vendor of oranges put themselves +out so much as to congregate in a little knot at the spot where +Conyngham landed. + +'Body of Bacchus!' said the priest, with a pinch of snuff poised +before his long nose, 'an Englishman--see his gold watch chain.' + +This remark called forth several monosyllabic sounds, and the +onlookers watched the safe discharge of Conyngham's personal effects +with a characteristic placidity of demeanour which was at once +tolerant and gently surprised. That any one should have the energy +to come ashore when he was comfortable on board, or leave the shore +when amply provided there with sunshine, elbowroom, and other +necessaries of life, presented itself to them as a fact worthy of +note but not of emulation. The happiest man is he who has reduced +the necessities of life to a minimum. + +No one offered to assist Conyngham. In Spain the onlooker keeps his +hands in his pockets. + +'The English, see you, travel for pleasure,' said the old soldier, +nodding his head in the direction of Gibraltar, pink and shimmering +across the bay. + +The priest brushed some stray grains of snuff from the front of his +faded cassock--once black, but now of a greeny brown. He was a +singularly tall man, gaunt and grey, with deep lines drawn downwards +from eye to chin. His mouth was large and tender, with a humorous +corner ever awaiting a jest. His eyes were sombre and deeply shaded +by grey brows, but one of them had a twinkle lurking and waiting, as +in the corner of his mouth. + +'Everyone stretches his legs according to the length of his +coverlet,' he said, and, turning, he courteously raised his hat to +Conyngham, who passed at that moment on his way to the hotel. The +little knot of onlookers broke up, and the boys wandered towards the +fort, before the gate of which a game at bowls was in progress. + +'The Padre has a hungry look,' reflected Conyngham. 'Think I'll +invite him to dinner.' + +For Geoffrey Horner had succeeded in conveying more money to the man +who had taken his sins upon himself, and while Conyngham possessed +money he usually had the desire to spend it. + +Conyngham went to the Fonda de la Marina, which stands to-day--a +house of small comfort and no great outward cleanliness; but, as in +most Spanish inns, the performance was better than the promise, and +the bedroom offered to the traveller was nothing worse than bare and +ill furnished. With what Spanish he at this time possessed the +Englishman made known his wants, and inquired of the means of +prosecuting his journey to Ronda. + +'You know the Captain-General Vincente of Ronda?' he asked. + +'But. . . yes--by reputation. Who does not in Andalusia?' replied +the host, a stout man, who had once cooked for a military mess at +Gibraltar, and professed himself acquainted with the requirements of +English gentlemen. + +'I have a letter to General Vincente, and must go to Ronda as soon +as possible. These are stirring times in Spain.' + +The man's bland face suddenly assumed an air of cunning, and he +glanced over his shoulder to see that none overheard. + +'Your Excellency is right,' he answered. 'But for such as myself +one side is as good as another--is it not so? Carlist or Christino- +-the money is the same.' + +'But here in the South there are no Carlists.' + +'Who knows?' said the innkeeper with outspread hands. 'Anything +that his Excellency requires shall be forthcoming,' he added +grandiosely. 'This is the dining-room, and here at the side a +little saloon where the ladies sit. But at present we have only +gentlemen in the hotel--it being the winter time.' + +'Then you have other guests?' inquired Conyngham. + +'But. . . yes--always. In Algeciras there are always travellers. +Noblemen--like his Excellency--for pleasure. Others--for commerce, +the Government--the politics.' + +'No flies enter a shut mouth, my friend,' said a voice at the door, +and both turned to see standing in the doorway the priest who had +witnessed Conyngham's arrival. + +'Pardon, senor,' said the old man, coming forward with his shabby +hat in his hand. 'Pardon my interruption. I came at an opportune +moment, for I heard the word politics.' + +He turned and shook a lean finger at the innkeeper, who was backing +towards the door with many bows. + +'Ah, bad Miguel,' he said, 'will you make it impossible for +gentlemen to put up at your execrable inn? The man's cooking is +superior to his discretion, senor. I, too, am a traveller, and for +the moment a guest here. I have the honour. My name is Concha--the +Padre Concha--a priest, as you see.' + +Conyngham nodded, and laughed frankly. + +'Glad to meet you,' he said. 'I saw you as I came along. My name +is Conyngham, and I am an Englishman, as you hear. I know very +little Spanish.' + +'That will come--that will come,' said the priest, moving towards +the window. 'Perhaps too soon, if you are going to stay any length +of time in this country. Let me advise you--do not learn our +language too quickly.' + +He shook his head and moved towards the open window. + +'See to your girths before you mount, eh? Here is the verandah, +where it is pleasant in the afternoon. Shall we be seated? That +chair has but three legs--allow me! this one is better.' + +He spoke with the grave courtesy of his countrymen. For every +Spaniard, even the lowest muleteer, esteems himself a gentleman, and +knows how to act as such. The Padre Concha had a pleasant voice, +and a habit of gesticulating slowly with one large and not too clean +hand, that suggested the pulpit. He had led the way to a spacious +verandah, where there were small tables and chairs, and at the outer +corners orange trees in square green boxes. + +'We will have a bottle of wine--is it not so?--yes,' he said, and +gravely clapped his hands together to summon the waiter--an Oriental +custom still in use in the Peninsula. + +The wine was brought and duly uncorked, during which ceremony the +priest waited and watched with the preoccupied air of a host careful +for the entertainment of his guest. He tasted the wine critically. + +'It might be worse,' he said. 'I beg you to excuse it not being +better.' + +There was something simple in the old man's manner that won +Conyngham's regard. + +'The wine is excellent,' he said. 'It is my welcome to Spain.' + +'Ah! Then this is your first visit to this country,' the priest +said indifferently, his eyes wandering to the open sea, where a few +feluccas lay becalmed. + +'Yes.' + +Conyngham turned and looked towards the sea also. It was late in +the afternoon, and a certain drowsiness of the atmosphere made +conversation, even between comparative strangers, a slower, easier +matter than with us in the brisk North. After a moment the +Englishman turned with, perhaps, the intention of studying his +companion's face, only to find the deep grey eyes fixed on his own. + +'Spain,' said the Padre, 'is a wonderful country, rich, beautiful, +with a climate like none in Europe; but God and the devil come to +closer quarters here than elsewhere. Still for a traveller, for +pleasure, I think this country is second to none.' + +'I am not exactly a traveller for pleasure, my father.' + +'Ah!' and Concha drummed idly on the table with his fingers. + +'I left England in haste,' added Conyngham lightly. + +'Ah!' + +'And it will be inexpedient for me to return for some months to +come. I thought of taking service in the army, and have a letter to +General Vincente, who lives at Ronda, as I understand, sixty miles +from here across the mountains.' + +'Yes,' said the priest thoughtfully, 'Ronda is sixty miles from +here--across the mountains.' + +He was watching a boat which approached the shore from the direction +of Gibraltar. The wind having dropped, the boatmen had lowered the +sail and were now rowing, giving voice to a song which floated +across the smooth sea sleepily. It was an ordinary Algeciras wherry +built to carry a little cargo, and perhaps a dozen passengers, a +fishing boat that smelt strongly of tobacco. The shore was soon +reached, and the passengers, numbering half a dozen, stepped over +the gunwale on to a small landing stage. One of them was better +dressed than his companions, a smart man with a bright flower in the +buttonhole of his jacket, carrying the flowing cloak brightly lined +with coloured velvet without which no Spaniard goes abroad at +sunset. He looked towards the hotel, and was evidently speaking of +it with a boatman whose attitude was full of promise and assurance. + +The priest rose and emptied his glass. + +'I must ask you to excuse me. Vespers wait for no man, and I hear +the bell,' he said with a grave bow, and went indoors. + +Left to himself, Conyngham lapsed into the easy reflections of a man +whose habit it is to live for the present, leaving the future and +the past to take care of themselves. Perhaps he thought, as some +do, that the past dies--which is a mistake. The past only sleeps, +and we carry it with us through life, slumbering. Those are wise +who bear it gently so that it may never be aroused. + +The sun had set, and Gibraltar, a huge couchant lion across the bay, +was fading into the twilight of the East when a footstep in the +dining-room made Conyngham turn his head, half expecting the return +of Father Concha. But in the doorway, and with the evident +intention of coming towards himself, Conyngham perceived a handsome +dark-faced man of medium height, with a smart moustache brushed +upward, clever eyes, and the carriage of a soldier. This stranger +unfolded his cloak, for in Spain it is considered ill-mannered to +address a stranger and remain cloaked. + +'Senor,' he said, with a gesture of the hat, courteous and yet manly +enough to savour more of the camp than the court, 'senor, I +understand you are journeying to Ronda.' + +'Yes.' + +'I, too, intended to go across the mountains, and hoped to arrive +here in time to accompany friends who I learn have already started +on their journey. But I have received letters which necessitate my +return to Malaga. You have already divined that I come to ask a +favour.' + +He brought forward a chair and sat down, drawing from his pocket a +silver cigarette case, which he offered to the Englishman. There +was a certain picturesqueness in the man's attitude and manner. His +face and movements possessed a suggestion of energy which seemed out +of place here in the sleepy South, and stamped him as a native not +of dreamy Andalusia, but of La Mancha perhaps, where the wit of +Spain is concentrated, or of fiery Catalonia, where discontent and +unrest are in the very atmosphere of the brown hills. This was a +Spanish gentleman in the best sense of the word, as scrupulous in +personal cleanliness as any Englishman, polished, accomplished, +bright and fascinating, and yet carrying with him a subtle air of +melancholy and romance which lingers still among the men and women +of aristocratic Spain. + +''Tis but to carry a letter,' he explained, 'and to deliver it into +the hand of the person to whom it is addressed. Ah, I would give +five years of life to touch that hand with my lips.' + +He sighed, gave a little laugh which was full of meaning, and yet +quite free from self-consciousness, and lighted a fresh cigarette. +Then, after a little pause, he produced the letter from an inner +pocket and laid it on the table in front of Conyngham. It was +addressed, 'To the Senorita J. B.,' and had a subtle scent of +mignonette. The envelope was of a delicate pink. + +'A love letter,' said Conyngham bluntly. + +The Spaniard looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. + +'Ah! you do not understand,' he said, 'in that cold country of the +North. If you stay in Spain, perhaps some dark-eyed one will teach +you. But,' and his manner changed with theatrical rapidity, as he +laid his slim hand on the letter, 'if, when you see her you love +her, I will kill you.' + +Conyngham laughed and held out his hand for the letter. + +'It is insufficiently addressed,' he said practically. 'How shall I +find the lady?' + +'Her name is Barenna, the Senorita Barenna; that is sufficient in +Ronda.' + +Conyngham took up the letter and examined it. 'It is of +importance?' he said. + +'Of the utmost.' + +'And of value?' + +'Of the greatest value in the world to me.' + +The Spaniard rose and took up his cloak, which he had thrown over +the back of the nearest chair, not forgetting to display a +picturesque corner of its bright lining. + +'You swear you will deliver it, only with your own hand, only to the +hand of the Senorita Barenna? And--you will observe the strictest +secrecy?' + +'Oh, yes,' answered Conyngham carelessly, 'if you like.' + +The Spaniard turned, and, leaning one hand on the table, looked +almost fiercely into his companion's face. 'You are an Englishman,' +he said, 'and an Englishman's word--is it not known all the world +over? In the North, in my country, where Wellington fought, the +peasants still say "word of an Englishman" instead of an oath.' + +He threw his cloak over his shoulder, and stood looking down at his +companion with a little smile as if he were proud of him. + +'There!' he said. 'Adios. My name is Larralde, but that is of no +consequence. Adios!' + +With a courteous bow he took his leave, and Conyngham presently saw +him walking down to the landing stage. It seemed that this strange +visitor was about to depart as abruptly as he had come. Conyngham +rose and walked to the edge of the verandah, where he stood watching +the departure of the boat in which his new friend had taken passage. + +While he was standing there, the old priest came quietly out of the +open window of the dining room. He saw the letter lying on the +table where Conyngham had left it. He approached, his shabby old +shoes making no sound on the wooden flooring, and read the address +written on the pink and scented envelope. When the Englishman at +length turned, he was alone on the verandah, with the wine bottle, +the empty glasses, and the letter. + + + +CHAPTER V. CONTRABAND. + + + +'What rights are his that dares not strike for them?' + +An hour before sunrise two horses stood shuffling their feet and +chewing their bits before the hotel of the Marina at Algeciras, +while their owner, a short and thick-set man of an exaggeratedly +villanous appearance, attended to such straps and buckles as he +suspected of latent flaws. The horses were lean and loose of ear, +with a melancholy thoughtfulness of demeanour that seemed to suggest +the deepest misgivings as to the future. Their saddles and other +accoutrements were frankly theatrical, and would have been at once +the delight of an artist and the despair of a saddler. Fringes and +tassels of bright-coloured worsted depended from points where +fringes and tassels were distinctly out of place. Where the various +straps should have been strong they looked weak, and scarce a buckle +could boast an innocence of knotted string. The saddles were of +wood, and calculated to inflict serious internal injuries to the +rider in case of a fall. They stood at least a foot above the +horse's backbone, raised on a thick cushion upon the ribs of the +animal, and leaving a space in the middle for the secretion of +tobacco and other contraband merchandise. + +'I'll take the smallest cut-throat of the crew,' Conyngham had said +on the occasion of an informal parade of guides the previous +evening. And the host of the Fonda, in whose kitchen the function +had taken place, explained to Concepcion Vara that the English +Excellency had selected him on his--the host's--assurance that +Algeciras contained no other so honest. + +'Tell him,' answered Concepcion with a cigarette between his lips +and a pardonable pride in his eyes, 'that my grandfather was a +smuggler and my father was shot by the Guardia Civil near +Algatocin.' + +Concepcion, having repaired one girth and shaken his head dubiously +over another, lighted a fresh cigarette and gave a little shiver, +for the morning air was keen. He discreetly coughed. He had seen +Conyngham breakfasting by the light of a dim oil lamp of a shape and +make unaltered since the days of Nebuchadnezzar, and, without +appearing impatient, wished to convey to one gentleman the fact that +another awaited him. + +Before long Conyngham appeared, having paid an iniquitous bill with +the recklessness that is only thoroughly understood by the poor. He +appeared as usual to be at peace with all men, and returned his +guide's grave salutation with an easy nod. + +'These the horses?' he inquired. + +Concepcion Vara spread out his hands. 'They have no equal in +Andalusia,' he said. + +'Then I am sorry for Andalusia,' answered Conyngham with a pleasant +laugh. + +They mounted and rode away in the dim cool light of the morning. +The sea was of a deep blue, and rippled all over as in a picture. +Gibraltar, five miles away, loomed up like a grey cloud against the +pink of sunrise. The whole world wore a cleanly look as if the +night had been passed over its face like a sponge, wiping away all +that was unsightly or evil. The air was light and exhilarating, and +scented by the breath of aromatic weeds growing at the roadside. + +Concepcion sang a song as he rode--a song almost as old as his +trade--declaring that he was a smuggler bold. And he looked it, +every inch. The road to Ronda lies through the cork woods of +Ximena, leaving St. Roque on the right hand--such at least was the +path selected by Conyngham's guide; for there are many ways over the +mountains, and none of them to be recommended. Beguiling the +journey with cigarette and song, calling at every venta on the road, +exchanging chaff with every woman and a quick word with all men, +Concepcion faithfully fulfilled his contract, and, as the moon rose +over the distant snow-clad peaks of the Sierra Nevada, pointed +forward to the lights of Gaucin, a mountain village with an evil +reputation. + +The dawn of the next day saw the travellers in the saddle again, and +the road was worse than ever. A sharp ascent led them up from +Gaucin to regions where foliage grew scarcer at every step, and +cultivation was unknown. At one spot they turned to look back, and +saw Gibraltar like a tooth protruding from the sea. The straits had +the appearance of a river, and the high land behind Ceuta formed the +farther bank of it. + +'There is Africa,' said Concepcion gravely, and after a moment +turned his horse's head uphill again. The people of these mountain +regions were as wild in appearance as their country. Once or twice +the travellers passed a shepherd herding sheep or goats on the +mountain side, himself clad in goatskin, with a great brown cloak +floating from his shoulders--a living picture of Ishmael or those +sons of his who dwelt in the tents of Kedar. A few muleteers drew +aside to let the horses pass, and exchanged some words in an +undertone with Conyngham's guide. Fine-looking brigands were these, +with an armoury of knives peeping from their bright-coloured +waistbands. The Andalusian peasant is for six days in the week +calculated to inspire awe by his clothing and general appearance. +Of a dark skin and hair, he usually submits his chin to the barber's +office but once a week, and the timid traveller would do well to +take the road on Sundays only. Towards the end of the week, and +notably on a Saturday, every passer-by is an unshorn brigand capable +of the darkest deeds of villany, while twenty-four hours later the +land will be found to be peopled by as clean and honest and smart, +and withal as handsome, a race of men as any on earth. + +Before long all habitations were left behind, and the horses climbed +from rock to rock like cats. There was no suggestion of pathway or +landmark, and Concepcion paused once or twice to take his bearings. +It was about two in the afternoon when, after descending the bed of +a stream long since dried up, Concepcion called a halt, and proposed +to rest the horses while he dined. As on the previous day, the +guide's manner was that of a gentleman, conferring a high honour +with becoming modesty when he sat down beside Conyngham and untied +his small sack of provisions. These consisted of dried figs and +bread, which he offered to his companion before beginning to eat. +Conyngham shared his own stock of food with his guide, and +subsequently smoked a cigarette which that gentleman offered him. +They were thus pleasantly engaged when a man appeared on the rocks +above them in a manner and with a haste that spoke but ill of his +honesty. The guide looked up knife in hand, and made answer to a +gesture of the arm with his own hand upraised. + +'Who is this?' said Conyngham. 'Some friend of yours? Tell him to +keep his distance, for I don't care for his appearance.' + +'He is no friend of mine, Excellency. But the man is, I dare say, +honest enough. In these mountains it is only of the Guardia Civil +that one must beware. They have ever the finger on the trigger and +shoot without warning.' + +'Nevertheless,' said the Englishman, now thoroughly on the alert, +'let him state his business at a respectable distance. Ah! he has a +comrade and two mules.' + +And indeed a second man of equally unprepossessing exterior now +appeared from behind a great rock leading a couple of heavily laden +mules. + +Concepcion and the first traveller, who was now within a dozen +yards, were already exchanging words in a patois not unlike the +Limousin dialect, of which Conyngham understood nothing. + +'Stop where you are,' shouted the Englishman in Spanish, 'or else I +shoot you! If there is anything wrong, Senor Vara,' he added to the +guide, 'I shoot you first, understand that.' + +'He says,' answered Concepcion with dignity, 'that they are honest +traders on the road to Ronda, and would be glad of our company. His +Excellency is at liberty to shoot if he is so disposed.' + +Conyngham laughed. + +'No,' he answered, 'I am not anxious to kill any man, but each must +take care of himself in these times.' + +'Not against an honest smuggler.' + +'Are these smugglers?' + +'They speak as such. I know them no more than does his Excellency.' + +The second new-comer was now within hail, and began at once to speak +in Spanish. The tale he told was similar in every way to that +translated by Concepcion from the Limousin dialect. + +'Why should we not travel together to Ronda?' he said, coming +forward with an easy air of confidence, which was of better effect +than any protestation of honesty. He had a quiet eye, and the +demeanour of one educated to loftier things than smuggling tobacco +across the Sierra, though indeed, he was no better clad than his +companion. The two guides instinctively took the road together, +Concepcion leading his horse, for the way was such that none could +ride over it. Conyngham did the same, and his companion led the +mule by a rope, as is the custom in Andalusia. + +The full glare of the day shone down on them, the bare rock giving +back a puff of heat that dried the throat. Conyngham was tired and +not too trustful of his companion, who, indeed, seemed to be fully +occupied with his own thoughts. They had thus progressed a full +half-hour when a shout from the rocks above caused them to halt +suddenly. The white linen head coverings of the Guardia Civil and +the glint of the sun on their accoutrements showed at a glance that +this was not a summons to be disregarded. + +In an instant Concepcion's companion was leaping from rock to rock +with an agility only to be acquired in the hot fear of death. A +report rang out and echoed among the hills. A bullet went 'splat' +against a rock near at hand, making a frayed blue mark upon the grey +stone. The man dodged from side to side in the panic-stricken +irresponsibility of a rabbit seeking covert where none exists. +There was not so much as to hide his head. Conyngham looked up +towards the foe in time to see a puff of white smoke thrown up +against the steely sky. A second report, and the fugitive seemed to +trip over a stone. He recovered himself, stood upright for a +moment, gave a queer spluttering cough, and sat slowly down against +a boulder. + +'He is killed!' said Concepcion, throwing down his cigarette. +'Mother of God! these Guardias Civiles!' + +The two guards came clambering down the face of the rock. +Concepcion glanced at his late companion writhing in the sharpness +of death. + +'Here or at Ronda, to-day, or to-morrow, what matters it?' muttered +the quiet-eyed man at Conyngham's side. The Englishman turned and +looked at him. + +'They will shoot me too, but not now.' + +Concepcion sullenly awaited the arrival of the guards. These men +ever hunt in couples of a widely different age, for the law has +found that an old head and a young arm form the strongest +combination. The elder of the two had the face of an old grey wolf. +He muttered some order to his companion, and went towards the mule. +He cut away the outer covering of the burden suspended from the +saddle, and nodded his head wisely. These were boxes of cartridges +to carry one thousand each. The grey old man turned and looked at +him who lay on the ground. + +'A la longa,' he said with a grim smile. 'In the long run, +Antonio.' + +The man gave a sickly grin and opened his mouth to speak, but his +jaw dropped instead, and he passed across that frontier which is +watched by no earthly sentinel. + +'This gentleman,' said the quiet-eyed man, whose guide had thus paid +for his little mistake in refusing to halt at the word of command, +'is a stranger to me--an Englishman, I think.' + +'Yes,' answered Conyngham. + +The old soldier looked from one to the other. + +'That may be,' he said, 'but he sleeps in Ronda prison to-night. +To-morrow the Captain-General will see to it.' + +'I have a letter to the Captain-General,' said Conyngham, who drew +from his pocket a packet of papers. Among these was the pink +scented envelope given to him by the man called Larralde at +Algeciras. He had forgotten its existence, and put it back in his +pocket with a smile. Having found that for which he sought, he gave +it to the soldier, who read the address in silence and returned the +letter. + +'You I know,' he said, turning to the man at Conyngham's side, who +merely shrugged his shoulders. 'And Concepcion Vara, we all know +him.' + +Concepcion had lighted a cigarette, and was murmuring a popular air +with the indifferent patience and the wandering eye of perfect +innocence. The old soldier turned and spoke in an undertone to his +comrade, who went towards the dead man and quietly covered his face +with the folds of his own faja or waistcloth. This he weighted at +the corners with stones, carrying out this simple office to the dead +with a suggestive indifference. To this day the Guardias Civiles +have plenary power to shoot whomsoever they think fit--flight and +resistance being equally fatal. + +No more heeding the dead body of the man whom he had shot than he +would have heeded the carcase of a rat, the elder of the two +soldiers now gave the order to march, commanding Concepcion to lead +the way. + +'It will not be worth your while to risk a bullet by running away,' +he said. 'This time it is probably a matter of a few pounds of +tobacco only.' + +The evening had fallen ere the silent party caught sight of the town +of Ronda, perched, as the Moorish strongholds usually are, on a +height. Ronda, as history tells, was the last possession of the +brave and gifted Moslems in Spain. The people are half Moorish +still, and from the barred windows look out deep almond eyes and +patient faces that have no European feature. The narrow streets +were empty as the travellers entered the town, and the clatter of +the mules slipping and stumbling on the cobble stones brought but +few to the doors of the low-built houses. To enter Ronda from the +south the traveller must traverse the Moorish town, which is divided +from the Spanish quarter by a cleft in the great rock that renders +the town impregnable to all attack. Having crossed the bridge +spanning the great gorge into which the sun never penetrates even at +midday, the party emerged into the broader streets of the more +modern town, and, turning to the right through a high gateway, found +themselves in a barrack yard of the Guardias Civiles. + + + +CHAPTER VI. AT RONDA. + + + +'Le plus grand art d'un habile homme est celui de savoir cacher son +habilete.' + +When Conyngham awoke after a night conscientiously spent in that +profound slumber which waits on an excellent digestion and a +careless heart, he found the prison attendant at his bedside. A +less easy-going mind would perhaps have leapt to some nervous +conclusion at the sight of this fierce-visaged janitor, who, +however, carried nothing more deadly in his hand than a card. + +'It is the Captain-General,' said he, 'who calls at this early hour. +His Excellency's letter has been delivered, and the Captain-General +scarce waited to swallow his morning chocolate.' + +'Very much to the Captain-General's credit,' returned Conyngham +rising. 'Cold water,' he went on, 'soap, a towel, and my luggage-- +and then the Captain-General.' + +The attendant, with an odd smile, procured the necessary articles, +and when the Englishman was ready led the way downstairs. He was a +solemn man from Galicia, this, where they do not smile. + +In the patio of the great house, once a monastery, now converted +into a barrack for the Guardias Civiles, a small man of fifty years +or more stood smoking a cigarette. On perceiving Conyngham he came +forward with outstretched hand and a smile which can only be +described as angelic. It was a smile at once sympathetic and +humorous, veiling his dark eyes between lashes almost closed, +parting moustached lips to disclose a row of pearly teeth. + +'My dear sir,' said General Vincente in very tolerable English, 'I +am at your feet. That such a mistake should have been made in +respect to the bearer of a letter of introduction from my old friend +General Watterson--we fought together in Wellington's day--that such +a mistake should have occurred overwhelms me with shame.' + +He pressed Conyngham's hand in both of his, which were small and +white--looked up into his face, stepped back and broke into a soft +laugh. Indeed his voice was admirably suited to a lady's drawing- +room, and suggested nought of the camp or battle field. From the +handkerchief which he drew from his sleeve and passed across his +white moustache a faint scent floated on the morning air. + +'Are you General Vincente?' asked Conyngham. + +'Yes--why not?' And in truth the tone of the Englishman's voice had +betrayed a scepticism which warranted the question. + +'It is very kind of you to come so early. I have been quite +comfortable, and they gave me a good supper last night,' said +Conyngham. 'Moreover, the Guardias Civiles are in no way to blame +for my arrest. I was in bad company, it seems.' + +'Yes; your companions were engaged in conveying ammunition to the +Carlists; we have wanted to lay our hands upon them for some weeks. +They have carried former journeys to a successful termination.' + +He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. + +'The guide, Antonio something-or-other, died, as I understand.' + +'Well, yes; if you choose to put it that way,' admitted Conyngham. + +The General raised his eyebrows in a gentle grimace expressive of +deprecation, with, as it were, a small solution of sympathy, +indicated by a moisture of the eye, for the family of Antonio +something-or-other in their bereavement. + +'And the other man? Seemed a nice enough fellow. . .' inquired +Conyngham. + +The General raised one gloved hand as if to fend off some +approaching calamity. + +'He died this morning--at six o'clock.' + +Conyngham looked down at this gentle soldier with a dawning light of +comprehension. This might after all be the General Vincente whom he +had been led to look upon as the fiercest of the Spanish Queen's +adherents. + +'Of the same complaint?' + +'Of the same complaint,' answered the General softly. He slipped +his hand within Conyngham's arm, and thus affectionately led him +across the patio towards the doorway where sentinels stood at +attention. He acknowledged the attitude of his subordinates by a +friendly nod; indeed, this rosy-faced warrior seemed to brim over +with the milk of human kindness. + +'The English,' he said, pressing his companion's arm, 'have been too +useful to us for me to allow one of them to remain a moment longer +in confinement. You say you were comfortable. I hope they gave you +a clean towel and all that.' + +'Yes, thanks,' answered Conyngham, suppressing a desire to laugh. + +'That is well. Ronda is a pleasant place, as you will find. Most +interesting--Moorish remains, you understand. I will send my +servant for your baggage, and of course my poor house is at your +disposal. You will stay with me until we can find some work for you +to do. You wish to take service with us, of course?' + +'Yes,' answered Conynghamn. 'Rather thought of it--if you will have +me.' + +The General glanced up at his stalwart companion with a measuring +eye. + +'My house,' he said, in a conversational way, as if only desirous of +making matters as pleasant as possible in a life which nature had +intended to be peaceful and sunny, and perhaps trifling, but which +the wickedness of men had rendered otherwise, 'my house is, as you +would divine, only an official residence, but pleasant enough-- +pleasant enough. The garden is distinctly tolerable; there are +orange trees now in bloom--so sweet of scent.' + +The street into which they had now emerged was no less martial in +appearance than the barrack yard, and while he spoke the General +never ceased to dispense his kindly little nod on one side or the +other in response to military salutations. + +'We have quite a number of soldiers in Ronda at present,' he said, +with an affectionate little pressure of Conyngham's arm, as if to +indicate his appreciation of such protection amid these rough men. +'There is a great talk of some rising in the South--in Andalusia--to +support Senor Cabrera, who continually threatens Madrid. A great +soldier, they tell me, this Cabrera, but not--well, not perhaps +quite, eh?--a caballero, a gentleman. A pity, is it not?' + +'A great pity,' answered Conyngham, taking the opportunity at last +afforded him of getting a word in. + +'One must be prepared,' went on the General with a good-natured +little sigh, 'for such measures. There are so many mistaken +enthusiasts--is it not so? Such men as your countryman, Senor +Flinter. There are so many who are stronger Carlists than Don +Carlos himself, eh?' + +The secret of conversational success is to defer to one's listener. +A clever man imparts information by asking questions, and obtains it +without doing so. + +'This is my poor house,' continued the soldier, and as he spoke he +beamed on the sentries at the door. 'I am a widower, but God has +given me a daughter who is now of an age to rule my household. +Estella will endeavour to make you comfortable, and an Englishman--a +soldier--will surely overlook some small defects.' + +He finished with a good-natured laugh. There was no resisting the +sunny good-humour of this little officer, or the gladness of his +face. His attitude towards the world was one of constant endeavour +to make things pleasant, and acquit himself to his best in +circumstances far beyond his merits or capabilities. He was one who +had had good fortune all his days. Those who have greatness thrust +upon them are never much impressed by their burden. And General +Vincente had the air of constantly assuring his subordinates that +they need not mind him. + +The house to which he conducted Conyngham stood on the broad main +street, immediately opposite a cluster of shops where leather +bottles were manufactured and sold. It was a large gloomy house +with a patio devoid of fountain and even of the usual orange trees +in green boxes. + +'Through there is the garden--most pleasant and shady,' said the +General, indicating a doorway with the riding-whip he carried. + +A troop of servants awaited them at the foot of the broad Moorish +staircase open on one side to the patio and heavily carved in +balustrade and cornice. These gentlemen bowed gravely--indeed, they +were so numerous that the majority of them must have had nothing to +do but cultivate this dignified salutation. + +'The senorita?' inquired the General. + +'The senorita is in the garden, Excellency,' answered one with the +air of a courtier. + +'Then let us go there at once,' said General Vincente, turning to +Conyngham, and gripping his arm affectionately. + +They passed through a doorway whither two men had hurried to open +the heavy doors, and the scent of violets and mignonette, of orange +in bloom, and of a hundred opening buds swept across their faces. +The brilliant sunlight almost dazzled eyes that had grown accustomed +to the cool shade of the patio, for Ronda is one of the sunniest +spots on earth, and here the warmth is rarely oppressive. The +garden was Moorish, and running water in aqueducts of marble, yellow +with stupendous age, murmured in the shade of tropical plants. A +fountain plashed and chattered softly, like the whispering of +children. The pathways were paved with a fine white gravel of +broken marble. There was no weed amid the flowers. It seemed a +paradise to Conyngham, fresh from the grey and mournful northern +winter, and no part of this weary, busy world. For here were rest +and silence, and that sense of eternity which is only conveyed by +the continuous voice of running or falling water. It was hard to +believe that this was real and earthly. Conyngham rubbed his eyes +and instinctively turned to look at his companion, who was as unreal +as his surroundings--a round-faced, chubby little man, with a tender +mouth and moist dark eyes looking kindly out upon the world, who +called himself General Vincente; and the name was synonymous in all +Spain with bloodthirstiness and cruelty, with daring and an +unsparing generalship. + +'Come,' said he, 'let us look for Estella.' + +He led the way along a path winding among almond and peach trees in +full bloom, in the shadow of the weird eucalyptus and the feathery +pepper tree. Then with a little word of pleasure he hurried +forward. Conyngham caught sight of a black dress and a black +mantilla, of fair golden hair, and a fan upraised against the rays +of the sun. + +'Estella, here is a guest: Mr. Conyngham, one of the brave +Englishmen who remember Spain in her time of trouble.' + +Conyngham bowed with a greater ceremony than we observe to-day, and +stood upright to look upon that which was for him from that moment +the fairest face in the world. As, to some men, success or failure +seems to come early and in one bound, so, for some, Love lies long +in ambush, to shoot at length a single and certain shaft. Conyngham +looked at Estella Vincente, his gay blue eyes meeting her dark +glance with a frankness which was characteristic, and knew from that +instant that his world held no other woman. It came to him as a +flash of lightning that left his former life grey and neutral, and +yet he was conscious of no surprise, but rather of a feeling of +having found something which he had long sought. + +The girl acknowledged his salutation with a little inclination of +the head and a smile which was only of the lips, for her eyes +remained grave and deep. She had all the dignity of carriage famous +in Castilian women, though her figure was youthful still, and +slight. Her face was a clean-cut oval, with lips that were still +and proud, and a delicately aquiline nose. + +'My daughter speaks English better than I do,' went on the General +in the garrulous voice of an exceedingly domesticated man. 'She has +been at school in England--at the suggestion of my dear friend +Watterson--with his daughters, in fact.' + +'And must have found it dull and grey enough compared with Spain,' +said Conyngham. + +'Ah! Then you like Spain?' said the General eagerly. 'It is so +with all the English. We have something in common, despite the +Armada, eh? Something in manner and in appearance, too; is it not +so?' + +He left Conyngham, and walked slowly on with one hand at his +daughter's waist. + +'I was very happy in England,' said Estella to Conyngham, who walked +at her other side; 'but happier still to get home to Spain.' + +Her voice was rather low, and Conyngham had an odd sensation of +having heard it before. + +'Why did you leave your home?' she continued in a leisurely +conversational way which seemed natural to the environments. + +The question rather startled the Englishman, for the only answer +seemed to be that he had quitted England in order to come to Ronda +and to her, following the path in life that fate had assigned to +him. + +'We have troubles in England also--political troubles,' he said, +after a pause. + +'The Chartists,' said the General cheerfully. 'We know all about +them, for we have the English newspapers. I procure them in order +to have reliable news of Spain.' + +He broke off with a little laugh, and looked towards his daughter. + +'In the evening Estella reads them to me. And it was on account of +the Chartists that you left England?' + +'Yes.' + +'Ah, you are a Chartist, Mr. Conyngham.' + +'Yes,' admitted the Englishman after a pause, and he glanced at +Estella. + + + +CHAPTER VII. IN A MOORISH GARDEN. + + + +'When love is not a blasphemy, it is a religion.' + +There is perhaps a subtle significance in the fact that the +greatest, the cruellest, the most barbarous civil war of modern +days, if not of all time, owed its outbreak and its long continuance +to the influence of a woman. When Ferdinand VII. of Spain died, in +1833, after a reign broken and disturbed by the passage of that +human cyclone, Napoleon the Great, he bequeathed his kingdom, in +defiance of the Salic law, to his daughter Isabella. Ferdinand's +brother Charles, however, claimed the throne under the very just +contention that the Salic law, by which women were excluded from the +heritage of the crown, had never been legally abrogated. + +This was the spark that kindled in many minds ambition, cruelty, +bloodthirstiness, self-seeking and jealousy--producing the morale, +in a word, of the Spain of sixty years ago. Some sided with the +Queen Regent Christina, and rallied round the child-queen because +they saw that that way lay glory and promotion. Others flocked to +the standard of Don Carlos because they were poor and of no +influence at Court. The Church as a whole raised its whispering +voice for the Pretender. For the rest, patriotism was nowhere, and +ambition on every side. 'For five years we have fought the +Carlists, hunger, privation, and the politicians at Madrid! And the +holy saints only know which has been the worst enemy,' said General +Vincente to Conyngham when explaining the above related details. + +And indeed the story of this war reads like a romance, for there +came from neutral countries foreign legions as in the olden days. +From England an army of ten thousand mercenaries landed in Spain, +prepared to fight for the cause of Queen Christina, and very +modestly estimating the worth of their services at the sum of +thirteenpence per diem. After all, the value of a man's life is but +the price of his daily hire. + +'We did not pay them much,' said General Vincente with a deprecating +little smile, 'but they did not fight much. Their pay was generally +in arrear, and they were usually in the rear as well. What will +you, my dear Conyngham? You are a commercial people--you keep good +soldiers in the shop window, and when a buyer comes you serve him +with second-class goods from behind the counter.' + +He beamed on Conyngham with a pleasant air of benign connivance in a +very legitimate commercial transaction. + +This is no time or place to go into the history of the English +Legion in Spain, which, indeed, had quitted that country before +Conyngham landed there, horrified by the barbarities of a cruel war +where prisoners received no quarter and the soldiers on either side +were left without pay or rations. In a half-hearted manner England +went to the assistance of the Queen Regent of Spain, and one error +in statesmanship led to many. It is always a mistake to strike +gently. + +'This country,' said General Vincente in his suavest manner, 'owes +much to yours, my dear Conyngham; but it would have been better for +us both had we owed you a little more.' + +During the five years prior to Conyngham's arrival at Ronda the war +had raged with unabated fury, swaying from the west to the east +coast as fortune smiled or frowned on the Carlist cause. At one +time it almost appeared certain that the Christino forces were +unable to stem the rising tide which bade fair to spread over all +Spain--so unfortunate were their generals, so futile the best +endeavours of the bravest and most patient soldiers. General +Vincente was not alone in his conviction that had the gallant +Carlist leader Zumalacarreguy lived he might have carried all before +him. But this great leader at the height of his fame--beloved of +all his soldiers, worshipped by his subordinate officers--died +suddenly, by poison, as it was whispered, the victim of jealousy and +ambition. Almost at once there arose in the East of Spain one, +obscure in birth and unknown to fame, who flashed suddenly to the +zenith of military glory--the ruthless, the wonderful Cabrera. The +name is to this day a household word in Catalonia, while the eyes of +a few old men still living, who fought with or against him, flash in +the light of other days at the mere mention of it. + +Among the many leaders who had attempted in vain to overcome by +skill and patriotism the thousand difficulties placed in their way +by successive unstable, insincere Ministers of War, General Vincente +occupied an honoured place. This mild-mannered tactician enjoyed +the enviable reputation of being alike unconquerable and +incorruptible. His smiling presence on the battlefield was in +itself worth half a dozen battalions, while at Madrid the dishonest +politicians, who through those years of Spain's great trial +systematically bartered their honour for immediate gain, dreaded and +respected him. + +During the days that followed his arrival at Ronda and release from +the prison there, Frederick Conyngham learnt much from his host and +little of the man himself, for General Vincente had that in him with +which no great leader in any walk of life can well dispense--an +unsoundable depth. + +Conyngham learnt also that the human heart is capable of rising at +one bound above differences of race or custom, creed and spoken +language. He walked with Estella in that quiet garden between high +walls on the trim Moorish paths, and often the murmur of the running +water which ever graced the Moslem palaces was the only sound that +broke the silence. For this thing had come into the Englishman's +life suddenly, leaving him dazed and uncertain. Estella, on the +other hand, had a quiet savoir-faire that sat strangely on her young +face. She was only nineteen, and yet had a certain air of +authority, handed down to her from two great races of noble men and +women. + +'Do all your countrymen take life thus gaily?' she asked Conyngham +one day; 'surely it is a more serious affair than you think it.' + +'I have never found it very serious, senorita,' he answered. 'There +is usually a smile in human affairs if one takes the trouble to look +for it.' + +'Have you always found it so?' + +He did not answer at once, pausing to lift the branch of a mimosa +tree that hung in yellow profusion across the pathway. + +'Yes, senorita, I think so,' he answered at length, slowly. There +was a sense of eternal restfulness in this old Moorish garden which +acted as a brake on the thoughts, and made conversation halt and +drag in an Oriental way that Europeans rarely understand. + +'And yet you say you remember your father's death?' + +'He made a joke to the doctor, senorita, and was not afraid.' + +Estella smiled in a queer way, and then looked grave again. + +'And you have always been poor, you say, sometimes almost starving?' + +'Yes--always poor, deadly poor, senorita,' answered Conyngham with a +gay laugh; 'and since I have been on my own resources frequently-- +well, very hungry. The appetite has been large and the resources +have been small. But when I get into the Spanish army they will no +doubt make me a general, and all will be well.' + +He laughed again, and slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. + +'See here,' he said, 'your father's recommendation to General +Espartero in a confidential letter.' + +But the envelope he produced was that pink one which the man called +Larralde had given him at Algeciras. + +'No--it is not that,' he said, searching in another pocket. 'Ah! +here it is--addressed to General Espartero, Duke of Vittoria.' + +He showed her the superscription, which she read with a little +inclination of the head, as if in salutation of the great name +written there. The greatest names are those that men have made for +themselves. Conyngham replaced the two letters in his pocket and +almost immediately asked: + +'Do you know anyone called Barenna in Ronda, senorita?' thereby +proving that General Espartero would do ill to give him an +appointment requiring even the earliest rudiments of diplomacy. + +'Julia Barenna is my cousin. Her mother was my mother's sister. Do +you know them, Senor Conyngham?' + +'Oh no,' answered Conyngham, truthfully enough. 'I met a man who +knows them. Do they live in Ronda?' + +'No; their house is on the Cordova road, about half a league from +the Customs station.' + +Estella was not by nature curious, and asked no questions. Some who +knew the Barennas would have been glad to claim acquaintance with +General Vincente and his daughter, but could not do so. For the +Captain-General moved in a circle not far removed from the Queen +Regent herself, and mixed but little in the society of Ronda, where, +for the time being, he held a command. + +Conyngham required no further information, and in a few moments +dismissed the letter from his mind. Events seemed for him to have +moved rapidly within the last few days, and the world of roadside +inns and casual acquaintance into which he had stepped on his +arrival in Spain was quite another from that in which Estella moved +at Ronda. + +'I must set out for Madrid in a few days at the latest,' he said a +few moments afterwards; 'but I shall go against my will, because you +tell me that you and your father will not be coming North until the +spring.' + +Estella shook her head with a little laugh. This man was different +from the punctilious aides-de-camp and others who had hitherto +begged most respectfully to notify their admiration. + +'And three days ago you did not know of our existence,' she said. + +'In three days a man may be dead of an illness of which he ignored +the existence, senorita. In three days a man's life may be made +miserable or happy--perhaps in three minutes.' + +And she looked straight in front of her in order to avoid his eyes. + +'Yours will always be happy, I think,' she said, 'because you never +seem to go below the surface, and on the surface life is happy +enough.' + +He made some light answer, and they walked on beneath the orange +trees, talking of these and other matters--indulging in those +dangerous generalities which sound so safe, and in reality narrow +down to a little world of two. + +They were thus engaged when the servant came to announce that the +horse which the General had placed at Conyngham's disposal was at +the door in accordance with the Englishman's own order. He went +away sorrowfully enough, only half consoled by the information that +Estella was about to attend a service at the Church of Santa Maria, +and could not have stayed longer in the garden. + +The hour of the siesta was scarce over, and as Conyngham rode +through the cleanly streets of the ancient town more than one idler +roused himself from the shadow of a doorway to see him pass. There +are few older towns in Andalusia than Ronda, and scarce anywhere the +habits of the Moors are so closely followed. The streets are clean, +the houses whitewashed within and without. The trappings of the +mules and much of the costume of the people are Oriental in texture +and brilliancy. + +Conyngham asked a passer-by to indicate the way to the Cordova road, +and the polite Spaniard turned and walked by his stirrup until a +mistake was no longer possible. + +'It is not the most beautiful approach to Ronda,' said this +garrulous person, 'but well enough in the summer, when the flowers +are in bloom and the vineyards green. The road is straight and +dusty until one arrives at the possession of the Senora Barenna--a +narrow road to the right leading up into the mountain. One can +perceive the house--oh, yes--upon the hillside, once beautiful, but +now old and decayed. Mistake is now impossible. It is a straight +way. I wish you a good journey.' + +Conyngham rode on, vaguely turning over in his mind a half-matured +plan of effecting a seemingly accidental entry to the house of +Senora Barenna, in the hope of meeting that lady's daughter in the +garden or grounds. Once outside the walls of the town he found the +country open and bare, consisting of brown hills, of which the lower +slopes were dotted with evergreen oaks. The road soon traversed a +village which seemed to be half deserted, for men and women alike +were working in the fields. On the balcony of the best house a +branch of palm bound against the ironwork balustrade indicated the +dwelling of the priest, and the form of that village despot was +dimly discernible in the darkened room behind. Beyond the village +Conyngham turned his horse's head towards the mountain, his mind +preoccupied with a Macchiavellian scheme of losing his way in this +neighbourhood. Through the evergreen oak and olive groves he could +perceive the roof of an old grey house which had once been a mere +hacienda or semi-fortified farm. + +Conyngham did not propose to go direct to Senora Barenna's house, +but described a semicircle, mounting from terrace to terrace on his +sure-footed horse. + +When at length he came in sight of the high gateway where the ten- +foot oaken gates still swung, he perceived someone approaching the +exit. On closer inspection he saw that this was a priest, and on +nearing him recognised the Padre Concha, whose acquaintance he had +made at the Hotel of the Marina at Algeciras. + +The recognition was mutual, for the priest raised his shabby old hat +with a tender care for the insecurity of its brim. + +'A lucky meeting, Senor Englishman,' he said; 'who would have +expected to see you here?' + +'I have lost my way.' + +'Ah!' And the grim face relaxed into a smile. 'Lost your way?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then it is lucky that I have met you. It is so easy to lose one's +way--when one is young.' + +He raised his hand to the horse's bridle. + +'You are most certainly going in the wrong direction,' he said; 'I +will lead you right.' + +It was said and done so quietly that Conyngham had found no word to +say before his horse was moving in the opposite direction. + +'This is surely one of General Vincente's horses,' said the priest; +'we have few such barbs in Ronda. He always rides a good horse, +that Miguel Vincente.' + +'Yes, it is one of his horses. Then you know the General?' + +'We were boys together,' answered the Padre; 'and there were some +who said that he should have been the priest and I the soldier.' + +The old man gave a little laugh. + +'He has prospered, however, if I have not. A great man, my dear +Miguel, and they say that his pay is duly handed to him. My own--my +princely twenty pounds a year--is overdue. I am happy enough, +however, and have a good house. You noticed it, perhaps, as you +passed through the village, a branch of palm against the rail of the +balcony--my sign, you understand. The innkeeper next door displays +a branch of pine, which, I notice, is more attractive. Every man +his day. One does not catch rabbits with a dead ferret. That is +the church--will you see it? No? Well, some other day. I will +guide you through the village. The walk will give me appetite, +which I sometimes require, for my cook is one whose husband has left +her.' + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE LOVE LETTER. + + + +'I must mix myself with action lest I wither by despair.' + +'No one,' Conyngham heard a voice exclaiming as he went into the +garden on returning from his fruitless ride, 'no one knows what I +have suffered.' + +He paused in the dark doorway, not wishing to intrude upon Estella +and her visitors; for he perceived the forms of three ladies seated +within a miniature jungle of bamboo, which grew in feathery +luxuriance around a fountain. It was not difficult to identify the +voice as that of the eldest lady, who was stout, and spoke in deep, +almost manly tones. So far as he was able to judge, the suffering +mentioned had left but small record on its victim's outward +appearance. + +'Old lady seems to have stood it well,' commented the Englishman in +his mind. + +'Never again, my dear Estella, do I leave Ronda, except indeed for +Toledo, where, of course, we shall go in the summer if this terrible +Don Carlos is really driven from the country. Ah! but what +suffering! My mind is never at ease. I expect to wake up at night +and hear that Julia is being murdered in her bed. For me it does +not matter; my life is not so gay that it will cost me much to part +from it. No one would molest an old woman, you think? Well, that +may be so; but I know all the anxiety, for I was once beautiful--ah! +more beautiful than you or Julia; and my hands and feet--have you +ever noticed my foot, Estella?--even now--!' + +And a sonorous sigh completed the sentence. Conyngham stepped out +of the doorway, the clank of his spurred heel on the marble pavement +causing the sigh to break off in a little scream. He had caught the +name of Julia, and hastily concluded that these ladies must be no +other than Madame Barenna and her daughter. In the little bamboo +grove he found the elder lady lying back in her chair, which creaked +ominously, and asking in a faint voice whether he were Don Carlos. + +'No,' answered Estella, with a momentary twinkle in her grave, dark +eyes; 'this is Mr. Conyngham--my aunt, Senora Barenna, and my cousin +Julia.' + +The ladies bowed. + +'You must excuse me,' said Madame Barenna volubly, 'but your +approach was so sudden. I am a great sufferer--my nerves, you know. +But young people do not understand.' + +And she sighed heavily, with a side glance at her daughter, who did +not even appear to be trying to do so. Julia Barenna was darker +than her cousin, quicker in manner, with an air of worldly +capability which Estella lacked. Her eyes were quick and restless, +her face less beautiful, but expressive of a great intelligence, +which, if brought to bear upon men in the form of coquetry, was +likely to be infinitely dangerous. + +'It is always best to approach my mother with caution,' she said +with a restless movement of her hands. This was not a woman at her +ease in the world or at peace with it. She laughed as she spoke, +but her eyes were grave, even while her lips smiled, and watched the +Englishman's face with an air almost of anxiety. There are some +faces that seem to be watching and waiting. Julia Barenna's had +such a look. + +'Conyngham,' said Madame Barenna reflectively. 'Surely I have heard +that name before. You are not the Englishman with whom Father +Concha is so angry--who sells forbidden books--the Bible, it is +said?' + +'No, senora,' answered Conyngham with perfect gravity; 'I have +nothing to sell.' + +He laughed suddenly, and looked at the elder lady with that air of +good humour which won for him more friends than he ever wanted; for +this Irishman had a ray of sunshine in his heart which shone upon +his path through life, and made that uneven way easier for his feet. +He glanced at Julia, and saw in her eyes the look of expectancy +which was, in reality, always there. The thought flashed through +his mind that by some means, or perhaps feminine intuition beyond +his comprehension, she knew that he possessed the letter addressed +to her, and was eagerly awaiting it. This letter seemed to have +been gaining in importance the longer he carried it, and this +opportunity of giving it to her came at the right moment. He +remembered Larralde's words concerning the person to whom the +missive was addressed, and the high-flown sentiments of that +somewhat theatrical gentleman became in some degree justified. +Julia Barenna was a woman who might well awaken a passionate love. +Conyngham realised this, as from a distance, while Julia's mother +spoke of some trivial matter of the moment to unheeding ears. That +distance seemed now to exist between him and all women. It had come +suddenly, and one glance of Estella's eyes had called it into +existence. + +'Yes,' Senora Barenna was saying, 'Father Concha is very angry with +the English. What a terrible man! You do not know him, Senor +Conyngham?' + +'I think I have met him, senora.' + +'Ah, but you have never seen him angry. You have never confessed to +him! A little, little sin--no larger than the eye of a fly--a +little bite of a calf's sweetbread on Friday in mere forgetfulness, +and Sancta Maria! what a penance is required! What suffering! It +is a purgatory to have such a confessor.' + +'Surely madame can have no sins,' said Conyngham pleasantly. + +'Not now,' said Senora Barenna with a deep sigh. 'When I was young +it was different.' + +And the memory of her sinful days almost moved her to tears. She +glanced at Conyngham with a tragic air of mutual understanding, as +if drawing a veil over that blissful past in the presence of Julia +and Estella. 'Ask me another time,' that glance seemed to say. + +'Yes,' the lady continued, 'Father Concha is very angry with the +English. Firstly, because of these bibles. Blessed Heaven! what +does it matter? No one can read them except the priests, and they +do not want to do so. Secondly, because the English have helped to +overthrow Don Carlos--' + +'You will have a penance,' interrupted Miss Julia Barenna quietly, +'from Father Concha for talking politics.' + +'But how will he know?' asked Senora Barenna sharply; and the two +young ladies laughed. + +Senora Barenna looked from one to the other, and shrugged her +shoulders. Like many women she was a strange mixture of foolishness +and worldly wisdom. She adjusted her mantilla and mutely appealed +to Heaven with a glance of her upturned eyes. Conyngham, who was no +diplomatist, nor possessed any skill in concealing his thoughts, +looked with some interest at Julia Barenna, and Estella watched him. +'Julia is right,' Senora Barenna was saying, though nobody heeded +her; 'one must not talk nor even think politics in this country. +You are no politician, I trust, Senor Conyngham--Senor Conyngham, I +ask you, you are no politician?' + +'No, senora,' replied Conyngham hastily; 'no; and if I were, I +should never understand Spanish politics.' + +'Father Concha says that Spanish politics are the same as those of +any other country--each man for himself,' said Julia with a bitter +laugh. + +'And he is, no doubt, right.' + +'Do you really think so?' asked Julia Barenna, with more earnestness +than the question would seem to require; 'are there not true +patriots who sacrifice all--not only their friends, but themselves-- +to the cause of their country?' + +'Without the hope of reward?' + +'Yes.' + +'There may be, senorita--a few,' answered Conyngham with a laugh, +'but not in my country. They must all be in Spain.' + +She smiled and shook her head in doubt. But it was a worn smile. + +The Englishman turned away and looked through the trees. He was +wondering how he could get speech with Julia alone for a moment. + +'You are admiring the garden,' said that young lady; and this time +he knew that there had in reality been that meaning in her eyes +which he had imagined to be there. + +'Yes, senorita, I think it must be the most beautiful garden in the +world.' + +He turned as he spoke, and looked at Estella, who met his glance +quietly. Her repose of manner struck him afresh. Here was a woman +having that air of decision which exacts respect alike from men and +women. Seen thus, with the more vivacious Julia at her side, +Estella gained suddenly in moral strength and depth--suggesting a +steady fire in contrast with a flickering will-o'-the-wisp blown +hither and thither on every zephyr. Yet Julia Barenna would pass +anywhere as a woman of will and purpose. + +Julia had risen, and was moving towards the exit of the little grove +in which they found themselves. Conyngham had never been seated. + +'Are the violets in bloom, Estella? I must see them,' said the +visitor. 'We have none at home, where all is dry and parched.' + +'So bad for the nerves--what suffering!--such a dry soil that one +cannot sleep at night,' murmured Madame Barenna, preparing to rise +from her seat. + +Julia and Conyngham naturally led the way. The paths winding in and +out among the palms and pepper trees were of a width that allowed +two to walk abreast. + +'Senorita, I have a letter for you.' + +'Not yet--wait!' + +Senora Barenna was chattering in her deep husky tones immediately +behind them. Julia turned and looked up at the windows of the +house, which commanded a full view of the garden. The dwelling +rooms were as usual upon the first floor, and the windows were +lightly barred with curiously wrought iron. Each window was +curtained within with lace and muslin. + +The paths wound in and out among the trees, but none of these were +large enough to afford a secure screen from the eye of any watcher +within the house. There was neither olive nor ilex in the garden to +afford shelter with their heavy leaves. Julia and Conyngham walked +on, out-distancing the elder lady and Estella. From these many a +turn in the path hid them from time to time, but Julia was +distrustful of the windows and hesitated, in an agony of +nervousness. Conyngham saw that her face was quite colourless, and +her teeth closed convulsively over her lower lip. He continued to +talk of indifferent topics, but the answers she made were incoherent +and broken. The course of true love did not seem to run smooth +here. + +'Shall I give you the letter? No one can see us, senorita. +Besides, I was informed that it was of no importance except to +yourself. You have doubtless had many such before, unless the +Spanish gentlemen are blind.' + +He laughed and felt in his pocket. + +'Yes!' she whispered. 'Quickly--now.' + +He gave her the letter in its romantic pink, scented envelope with a +half-suppressed smile at her eagerness. Would anybody--would +Estella--ever be thus agitated at the receipt of a letter from +himself? They were at the lower end of the inclosure, which was +divided almost in two by a broader pathway leading from the house to +the centre of the garden, where a fountain of Moorish marble formed +a sort of carrefour, from which the narrower pathways diverged in +all directions. + +Descending the steps into the garden from the house were two men, +one talking violently, the other seeking to calm him. + +'My uncle and the Alcalde--they have seen us from the windows,' said +Julia quickly. All her nervousness of manner seemed to have +vanished, leaving her concentrated and alert. Some men are thus in +warfare--nervous until the rifle opens fire, and then cool and +ready. + +'Quick!' whispered Julia. 'Let us turn back.' + +She wheeled round, and Conyngham did the same. + +'Julia!' they heard General Vincente call in his gentle voice. + +Julia, who was tearing the pink envelope, took no heed. Within the +first covering a second envelope appeared, bearing a longer address. +'Give that to the man whose address it bears, and save me from +ruin,' said the girl, thrusting the letter into Conyngham's hand. +She kept the pink envelope. + +When, a minute later, they came face to face with General Vincente +and his companion, a white-faced, fluttering man of sixty years, +Julia Barenna received them with a smile. There are some men who, +conscious of their own quickness of resource, are careless of +danger, and run into it from mere heedlessness, trusting to good +fortune to aid them should peril arise. Frederick Conyngham was one +of these. He now suspected that this was no love letter which the +man called Larralde had given him in Algeciras. + +'Julia,' said the General, 'the Alcalde desires to speak with you.' + +Julia bowed with that touch of hauteur which in Spain the nobles +ever observe in their manner towards the municipal authorities. + +'Mr. Conyngham,' continued the General, 'this is our brave Mayor, in +whose hands rests the well-being of the people of Ronda.' + +'Honoured to meet you,' said Conyngham, holding out his hand with +that frankness of manner which he accorded to great and small alike. +The Alcalde, a man of immense importance in his own estimation, +hesitated before accepting it. + +'General,' he said, turning and bowing very low to Senora Barenna +and Estella, who now joined them, 'General, I leave you to explain +to your niece the painful duties of my office.' + +The General smiled and raised a deprecating shoulder. + +'Well, my dear,' he said kindly to Julia, 'it appears that our good +Alcalde has news of a letter which is at present passing from hand +to hand in Andalusia. It is a letter of some importance. Our good +Mayor, who was at the window a minute ago, saw Mr. Conyngham hand +you a letter. Between persons who only met in this garden five +minutes ago such a transaction had a strange air. Our good friend, +who is all zeal for Spain and the people of Ronda, merely asks you +if his eyes deceived him. It is a matter at which we shall all +laugh presently over a lemonade--is it not so? A trifle, eh?' He +passed his handkerchief across his moustache, and looked +affectionately at his niece. + +'A letter!' exclaimed Julia. 'Surely the Alcalde presumes. He +takes too much upon himself.' The official stepped forward. + +'Senorita,' he said, 'I must be allowed to take that risk. Did this +gentleman give you a letter three minutes ago?' + +Julia laughed and shrugged her shoulders. + +'Yes.' + +'May I ask the nature of the letter?' + +'It was a love letter.' + +Conyngham bit his lip and looked at Estella. + +The Alcalde looked doubtful, with the cunning lips of a cheap +country lawyer. + +'A love letter from a gentleman you have never seen before?' he said +with a forced laugh. + +'Pardon me, Senor Alcalde, this gentleman travelled in the same ship +with my mother and myself from Bordeaux to Algeciras, and he saved +my life.' + +She cast a momentary glance at Conyngham; which would have sealed +his fate had the fiery Mr. Larralde been there to see it. The +Prefect paused, somewhat taken aback. There was a momentary +silence, and every moment gave Julia and Conyngham time to think. +Then the Alcalde turned to Conyngham. + +'It will give me the greatest pleasure,' he said, 'to learn that I +have been mistaken. I have only to ask this gentleman's +confirmation of what the senorita has said. It is true, senor, that +you surreptitiously handed to the Senorita Barenna a letter +expressing your love?' + +'Since the senorita has done me the honour of confessing it, I must +ask you to believe it,' answered Conyngham steadily and coldly. + + + +CHAPTER IX. A WAR OF WIT. + + + +'La discretion est l'art du mensonge.' + +The Alcalde blew out his cheeks and looked at General Vincente. +Senora Barenna would with small encouragement have thrown herself +into Conyngham's arms; but she received none whatever, and instead +frowned at Julia. Estella was looking haughtily at her father, and +would not meet Conyngham's glance. + +'I feel sure,' said General Vincente in his most conciliating +manner, 'that my dear Julia will see the necessity of satisfying the +good Alcalde by showing him the letter--with, of course, the consent +of my friend Conyngham.' + +He laughed, and slipped his hand within Conyngham's arm. + +'You see, my dear friend,' he said in English, 'these local magnates +are a trifle inflated; local magnitude is a little inclined to +inflate, eh? Ha! ha! And it is so easy to conciliate them. I +always try to do so myself. Peace at any price--that is my motto.' + +And he turned aside to arrange his sword, which dragged on the +ground. + +'Tell her, my dear Conyngham, to let the old gentleman read the +letter.' + +'But it is nothing to do with me, General.' + +'I know that, my friend, as well as you do,' said Vincente with a +sudden change of manner, which gave the Englishman an uncomfortable +desire to know what he meant. But General Vincente, in pursuit of +that peace which had earned him such a terrible reputation in war, +turned to Senora Barenna with his most reassuring smile. + +'It is nothing, my dear Inez,' he said. 'In these times of trouble +the officials are so suspicious, and our dear Alcalde knows too +much. He remembers dear Julia's little affair with Esteban +Larralde, now long since lived down and forgotten. Larralde is, it +appears, a malcontent, and on the wrong side of the wall. You need +have no uneasiness. Ah! your nerves--yes, I know! A great +sufferer--yes, I remember. Patience, dear Inez, patience!' + +And he patted her stout white hand affectionately. + +The Alcalde was taking snuff with a stubborn air of disbelief, +glancing the while suspiciously at Conyngham, who had eyes for none +but Estella. + +'Alcalde,' said General Vincente, 'the incident is past, as we say +in the diplomatic service; a lemonade now?' + +'No, General, the incident is not past, and I will not have a +lemonade.' + +'Oh!' exclaimed General Vincente in gentle horror. + +'Yes, this young lady must give me the letter, or I call in my men.' + +'But your men could not touch a lady, my dear Alcalde.' + +'You may be the Alcalde of Ronda,' said Conyngham cheerfully, in +continuation of the General's argument; 'but if you offer such an +insult to Senorita Barenna, I throw you into the fountain, in the +deepest part, where it is wettest, just there by the marble +dolphin.' + +And Conyngham indicated the exact spot with his riding-whip. + +'Who is this gentleman?' asked the Alcalde. The question was in the +first place addressed to space and the gods--after a moment the +speaker turned to General Vincente. + +'A prospective aide-de-camp of General Espartero.' + +At the mention of the great name the Mayor of Ronda became +beautifully less and half bowed to Conyngham. + +'I must do my duty,' he said with the stubbornness of a small mind. + +'And what do you conceive that to be, my dear Alcalde?' inquired the +General. + +'To place the Senorita Barenna under arrest unless she will hand to +me the letter she has in her possession.' Julia looked at him with +a smile. She was a brave woman, playing a dangerous game with +consummate courage, and never glanced at Conyngham, who with an +effort kept his hand away from the pocket where the letter lay +concealed. The manner in which she trusted him unreservedly and +entirely was in itself cunning enough, for it appealed to that sense +of chivalry which is not yet dead in men. + +'Place me under arrest, Senor Alcalde,' she said indifferently, 'and +when you have satisfied me that you have a right to inspect a lady's +private correspondence I will submit to be searched--but not +before.' + +She made a little signal to Conyngham not to interfere. + +Senora Barenna took this opportunity of asserting herself and her +nerves. She sat heavily down on a stone seat and wept. She could +hardly have done better, for she was a countess in her own right, +and the sight of high-born tears distinctly unnerved the Alcalde. + +'Well,' he said, 'the senorita has made her own choice. In these +times' (he glanced nervously at the weeping lady) 'one must do one's +duty.' + +'My dear Julia,' protested the General, 'you who are so sensible--' + +Julia shrugged her shoulders and laughed. She not only trusted +Conyngham but relied upon his intelligence. It is as a rule safer +to confide in the honesty of one's neighbour than in his wit; better +still, trust in neither. Conyngham, who was quick enough when the +moment required it, knew that she was fostering the belief that the +letter at that moment in his pocket was in her possession. He +suspected also that he and Julia Barenna were playing with life and +death. Further, he recognised her and her voice. This was the +woman who had showed discrimination and calmness in face of a great +danger on the Garonne. Had this Englishman, owning as he did to a +strain of Irish blood, turned his back on her and danger at such a +moment he would assuredly have proved himself untrue to the annals +of that race which has made a mark upon the world that will never be +wiped out. He looked at the Alcalde and smiled, whereupon that +official turned and made a signal with his hand to a man who, +dressed in a quiet uniform, had appeared in the doorway of the +house. + +'What the deuce we are all trying to do I don't know,' reflected +Conyngham, who indeed was sufficiently at sea to awake the most +dormant suspicions. + +The Alcalde, now thoroughly aroused, protested his inability to +neglect a particle of his duty at this troubled period of Spain's +history, and announced his intention of placing Julia Barenna under +surveillance until she handed him the letter she had received from +Conyngham. + +'I am quite prepared,' he added, 'to give this caballero the benefit +of the doubt, and assume that he has been in this matter the tool of +unscrupulous persons. Seeing that he is a friend of General +Vincente's, and has an introduction to his Excellency the Duke of +Vittoria, he is without the pale of my jurisdiction.' + +The Alcalde made Conyngham a profound bow and proceeded to conduct +Julia and her indignant mother to their carriage. + +'There goes,' said General Vincente with his most optimistic little +chuckle, 'a young woman whose head will always be endangered by her +heart.' And he nodded towards Julia's retreating form. + +Estella turned and walked away by herself. + +'Come,' said the General to Conyngham, 'let us sit down. I have +news for you. But what a susceptible heart--my dear young friend-- +what a susceptible heart! Julia is, I admit, a very pretty girl--la +beaute du diable, eh! But on so short an acquaintance--rather +rapid, rather rapid!' + +As he spoke he was searching among some letters which he had +produced from his pocket, and at length found an official envelope +that had already been opened. + +'I have here,' he said, 'a letter from Madrid. You have only to +proceed to the capital, and there I hope a post awaits you. Your +duties will at present be of a semi-military character, but later I +hope we can show you some fighting. This pestilential Cabrera is +not yet quelled, and Morella still holds out. Yes, there will be +fighting.' + +He closed the letter and looked at Conyngham. 'If that is what you +want,' he added. + +'Yes, that is what I want.' + +The General nodded and rose, pausing to brush a few grains of dust +from his dapper riding-breeches. + +'Come,' he said, 'I have seen a horse which will suit you at the +cavalry quarters in the Calle de Bobadilla. Shall we go and look at +him?' + +Conyngham expressed his readiness to do as the General proposed. + +'When shall I start for Madrid?' he asked. + +'Oh, to-morrow morning will be time enough,' was the reply, uttered +in an easy-going, indolent tone, 'if you are early astir. You see, +it is now nearly five o'clock, and you could scarcely be in saddle +before sunset.' + +'No,' laughed Conyngham, 'scarcely, considering that I have not yet +bought the saddle or the horse.' + +The General led the way into the house, and Conyngham thought of the +letter in his pocket. He had not yet read the address. Julia +relied upon him to deliver it, and her conduct towards the Alcalde +had the evident object of gaining time for him to do so. She had +unhesitatingly thrust herself into a position of danger to screen +him and further her own indomitable purpose. He thought of her-- +still as from a distance at which Estella had placed him--and knew +that she not only had a disquieting beauty, but cleverness and +courage, which are qualities that outlast beauty and make a woman +powerful for ever. + +When he and his companion emerged from the great doorway of the +house into the sunlight of the Calle Mayor, a man came forward from +the shade of a neighbouring porch. It was Concepcion Vara, +leisurely and dignified, twirling a cigarette between his brown +fingers. He saluted the General with one finger to the brim of his +shabby felt hat as one great man might salute another. He nodded to +Conyngham. + +'When does his Excellency take the road again?' he said. 'I am +ready. The Guardia Civil was mistaken this time--the judge said +there was no stain on my name.' + +He shrugged his shoulders and waved away the slight with the +magnanimity of one who can forgive and forget. + +'I take the road to-morrow; but our contract ceased at Ronda. I had +no intention of taking you on.' + +'You are not satisfied with me?' inquired Concepcion, offering his +interlocutor the cigarette he had just made. + +'Oh, yes.' + +'Buen! We take the road together.' + +'Then there is nothing more to be said?' inquired Conyngham with a +good-natured laugh. + +'Nothing, except the hour at which your Excellency starts.' + +'Six o'clock,' put in General Vincente quietly. 'Let me see, your +name is Concepcion Vara.' + +'Yes, Excellency--of Algeciras.' + +'It is well. Then serve this gentleman well, or else--' The +General paused, and laughed in his most deprecating manner. + +Concepcion seemed to understand, for he took off his hat and turned +gravely away. The General and Conyngham walked rapidly through the +streets of Ronda, than which there are none cleaner in the whole +world, and duly bought a great black horse at a price which seemed +moderate enough to the Englishman, though the vendor explained that +the long war had made horseflesh rise in value. Conyngham, at no +time a keen bargainer, hurried the matter to an end, and scarce +examined the saddle. He was anxious to get back to the garden of +the great house in the Calle Mayor before the cool of evening came +to drive Estella indoors. + +'You will doubtless wish to pack your portmanteau,' said the General +rather breathlessly, as he hurried along with small steps beside +Conyngham. + +'Yes,' answered the Englishman ingenuously, 'yes, of course.' + +'Then I will not detain you,' said General Vincente. 'I have +affairs at headquarters. We meet at dinner, of course.' + +He waved a little salutation with his whip and took a side turning. + +The sun had not set when Conyngham with a beating heart made his way +through the house into the garden. He had never been so serious +about anything in his life. Indeed, his life seemed only to have +begun in that garden. Estella was there. He saw her black dress +and mantilla through the trees, and the gleam of her golden hair +made his eyes almost fierce for the moment. + +'I am going to-morrow morning,' he said bluntly when he reached her +where she sat in the shade of a mimosa. + +She raised her eyes for a moment--deep velvet eyes with something in +them that made his heart leap within his breast. + +'And I love you, Estella,' he added. 'You may be offended--you may +despise me--you may distrust me. But nothing can alter me. I love +you--now and ever.' + +She drew a deep breath and sat motionless. + +'How many women does an Englishman love at once?' she asked coldly +at length. + +'Only one, senorita.' + +He stood looking at her for a moment. Then she rose and walked past +him into the house. + + + +CHAPTER X. THE CITY OF DISCONTENT. + + + +'En paroles ou en actions, etre discret, c'est s'abstenir.' + +'There is,' observed Frederick Conyngham to himself as he climbed +into the saddle in the grey dawn of the following morning, 'there is +a certain picturesqueness about these proceedings which pleases me.' + +Concepcion Vara indeed supplied a portion of this romantic +atmosphere, for he was dressed in the height of contrabandista +fashion, with a bright-coloured handkerchief folded round his head +underneath his black hat, a scarlet waistcloth, a spotless shirt, +and a flower in the ribbon of his hat. + +He was dignified and leisurely, but so far forgot himself as to sing +as he threw his leg across his horse. A dark-eyed maiden had come +to the corner of the Calle Vieja, and stood there watching him with +mournful eyes. He waved her a salutation as he passed. + +'It is the waiting-maid at the venta where I stay in Ronda--what +will you?' he explained to Conyngham with a modest air as he cocked +his hat farther on one side. + +The sun rose as they emerged from the narrow streets into the open +country that borders the road to Bobadilla. A pastoral country +this, where the land needs little care to make it give more than man +requires for his daily food. The evergreen oak studded over the +whole plain supplies food for countless pigs and shade where the +herdsmen may dream away the sunny days. The rich soil would yield +two or even three crops in the year, were the necessary seed and +labour forthcoming. Underground, the mineral wealth outvies the +richness of the surface, but national indolence leaves it +unexplored. + +'Before General Vincente one could not explain oneself,' said +Concepcion, urging his horse to keep pace with the trot of +Conyngham's huge mount. + +'Ah!' + +'No,' pursued Concepcion. 'And yet it is simple. In Algeciras I +have a wife. It is well that a man should travel at times. So,' he +paused and bowed towards his companion with a gesture of infinite +condescension, 'so--we take the road together.' + +'As long as you are pleased, Senor Vara,' said Conyngham, 'I am sure +I can but feel honoured. You know I have no money.' + +The Spaniard shrugged his shoulders. + +'What matter?' he said. 'What matter? We can keep an account--a +mere piece of paper--so: "Concepcion Vara, of Algeciras, in account +current with F. Conyngham; Englishman. One month's wages at one +hundred pesetas." It is simple.' + +'Very,' acquiesced Conyngham. 'It is only when pay-day comes that +things will get complicated.' + +Concepcion laughed. + +'You are a caballero after my own heart,' he said. 'We shall enjoy +ourselves in Madrid. I see that.' + +Conyngham did not answer. He had remembered the letter and Julia +Barenna's danger. He rose in his stirrups and looked behind him. +Ronda was already hidden by intervening hills, and the bare line of +the roadway was unbroken by the form of any other traveller. + +'We are not going to Madrid yet,' said Conyngham. 'We are going to +Xeres, where I have business. Do you know the road to Xeres?' + +'As well that as any other, Excellency.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'I know no roads north of Ronda. I am of Andalusia, I,' replied +Concepcion easily, and he looked round about him with an air of +interest which was more to the credit of his intelligence as a +traveller than his reliability as a guide. + +'But you engaged to guide me to Madrid.' + +'Yes, Excellency--by asking the way,' replied Concepcion with a +light laugh, and he struck a sulphur match on the neck of his horse +to light a fresh cigarette. + +Thus with an easy heart Frederick Conyngham set out on his journey, +having for companion one as irresponsible as himself. He had +determined to go to Xeres, though that town of ill repute lay far to +the westward of his road towards the capital. It would have been +simple enough to destroy the letter entrusted to him by Julia +Barenna, a stranger whom he was likely never to see again--simple +enough and infinitely safer as he suspected, for the billet-doux of +Mr. Larralde smelt of grimmer things than love. But Julia Barenna +wittingly, or in all innocence, appealed to that sense of chivalry +which is essentially the quality of lonely men who have never had +sisters, and Conyngham was ready to help Julia where he would have +refused his assistance to a man, however hard pressed. + +'Cannot leave the girl in a hole,' he said to himself, and proceeded +to act upon this resolution with a steadiness of purpose for which +some may blame him. + +It was evening when the two travellers reached Xeres after some +weary hours of monotonous progress through the vine-clad plains of +this country. + +'It is no wonder,' said Concepcion, 'that the men of Xeres are +malcontents, when they live in a country as flat as the palm of my +hand.' + +It happened to be a fete day, which in Spain, as in other countries +farther North, is synonymous with mischief. The men of Xeres had +taken advantage of this holiday to demonstrate their desire for +more. They had marched through the streets with banner and song, +arrayed in their best clothes, fostering their worst thoughts. They +had consumed marvellous quantities of that small Amontillado which +is as it were a thin fire to the blood, heating and degenerating at +once. They had talked much nonsense and listened to more. Carlist +or Christino--it was all the same to them, so long as they had a +change of some sort. In the meantime they had a desire to break +something, if only to assert their liberty. + +A few minutes before Conyngham and his guide rode into the market- +place, which in Xeres is as long as a street, some of the free sons +of Spain had thought fit to shout insulting remarks to a passer-by. +With a fire too bright for his years this old gentleman, with fierce +white moustache and imperial, had turned on them, calling them good- +for-nothings and sons of pigs. + +Conyngham rode up just in time to see the ruffians rise as one man +and rush at the victim of their humour. The old man with his back +to the wall repelled his assailants with a sort of fierce joy in his +attitude which betokened the soldier. + +'Come on, Concepcion!' cried Conyngham, with a dig of the spurs that +made his tired horse leap into the air. He charged down upon the +gathering crowd, which scattered right and left before the wild +onslaught. But he saw the flash of steel, and knew that it was too +late. The old man, with an oath and a gasp of pain, sank against +the wall with the blood trickling through the fingers clasped +against his breast. Conyngham would have reined in, but Concepcion +on his heels gave the charger a cut with his heavy whip that made +him bound forward and would have unseated a short-stirruped rider. + +'Go on,' cried the Spaniard; 'it is no business of ours. The police +are behind.' + +And Conyngham, remembering the letter in his pocket, rode on without +looking back. In the day of which the present narrative treats, the +streets of Xeres were but ill paved, and the dust lay on them to the +depth of many inches, serving to deaden the sound of footsteps and +facilitate the commission of such deeds of violence as were at this +time of daily occurrence in Spain. Riding on at random, Conyngham +and his companion soon lost their way in the narrow streets, and +were able to satisfy themselves that none had followed them. Here +in a quiet alley Conyngham read again the address of the letter of +which he earnestly desired to rid himself without more ado. + +It was addressed to Colonel Monreal at No. 84 Plaza de Cadiz. + +'Let his Excellency stay here and drink a glass of wine at this +venta,' said Concepcion. 'Alone, I shall be able to get information +without attracting attention. And then, in the name of the saints, +let us shake the dust of Xeres off our feet. The first thing we see +is steel, and I do not like it. I have a wife in Algeciras to whom +I am much attached, and I am afraid--yes, afraid. A gentleman need +never hesitate to say so.' + +He shook his head forebodingly as he loosened his girths and called +for water for the horses. + +'I could eat a cocida,' he went on, sniffing the odours of a +neighbouring kitchen, 'with plenty of onions and the mutton as +becomes the springtime--young and tender. Dios! this quick +travelling and an empty stomach, it kills one.' + +'When I have delivered my letter,' replied Conyngham, 'we shall eat +with a lighter heart.' + +Concepcion went away in a pessimistic humour. He was one of those +men who are brave enough on good wine and victuals, but lack the +stamina to fight when hungry. He returned presently with the +required information. The Plaza de Cadiz was, it appeared, quite +close. Indeed, the town of Xeres is not large, though the +intricacies of its narrow streets may well puzzle a new-comer. No. +84 was the house of the barber, and on his first floor lived Colonel +Monreal, a retired veteran who had fought with the English against +Napoleon's armies. + +During his servant's absence, Conyngham had written a short note in +French, conveying, in terms which she would understand, the news +that Julia Barenna doubtless awaited with impatience; namely, that +her letter had been delivered to him whose address it bore. + +'I have ordered your cocida and some good wine,' he said to +Concepcion. 'Your horse is feeding. Make good use of your time, +for when I return I shall want you to take the road again at once. +You must make ten miles before you sleep to-night, and then an early +start in the morning.' + +'For where, senor?' + +'For Ronda.' + +Concepcion shrugged his shoulders. His life had been spent upon the +road, his wardrobe since childhood had been contained in a saddle- +bag, and Spaniards, above all people, have the curse of Ishmael. +They are a homeless race, and lay them down to sleep, when fatigue +overtakes them, under a tree or in the shade of a stone wall. It +often happens that a worker in the fields will content himself with +the lee side of a haystack for his resting-place when his home is +only a few hundred yards up the mountain side. + +'And his Excellency?' inquired Concepcion. + +'I shall sleep here to-night and proceed to Madrid to-morrow, by way +of Cordova, where I will wait for you. I have a letter here which +you must deliver to the Senorita Barenna at Ronda without the +knowledge of anyone. It will be well that neither General Vincente +nor any other who knows you should catch sight of you in the streets +of Ronda.' + +Concepcion nodded his head with much philosophy. + +'Ah! these women,' he said, turning to the steaming dish of mutton +and vegetables which is almost universal in the South, 'these women, +what shoe leather they cost us!' + +Leaving his servant thus profitably employed, Conyngham set out to +find the barber's shop in the Plaza de Cadiz. This he did without +difficulty, but on presenting himself at the door of Colonel +Monreal's apartment learnt that that gentleman was out. + +'But,' added the servant, 'the Colonel is a man of regular habits. +He will return within the next fifteen minutes, for he dines at +five.' + +Conyngham paused. He had no desire to make Colonel Monreal's +acquaintance, indeed preferred to remain without it, for he rightly +judged that Senor Larralde was engaged in affairs best left alone. + +'I have a letter for the Colonel,' he said to the servant, a man of +stupid countenance. 'I will place it here upon his table, and can +no doubt trust you to see that he gets it.' + +'That you can, Excellency,' replied the man, with a palm already +half extended to receive a gratuity. + +'If the Colonel fails to receive the letter I shall certainly know +of it,' said Conyngham, stumbling down the dark staircase, and well +pleased to have accomplished his mission. + +He returned with all speed to the inn in the quiet alley where he +had elected to pass the night, and found Concepcion still at table. + +'In half an hour I take the road,' said the Spaniard. 'The time for +a cup of coffee, and I am ready to ride all night.' + +Having eaten, Concepcion was in a better frame of mind, and now +cheerfully undertook to carry out his master's instructions. In +little more than half an hour he was in the saddle again, and waved +an airy adieu to Conyngham as he passed under the swinging oil lamp +that hung at the corner of the street. + +It was yet early in the evening, and Conyngham, having dined, set +out to explore the streets of Xeres, which were quiet enough now, as +the cafes were gayer and safer than the gloomy thoroughfares where a +foe might lurk in every doorway. In the market-place, between rows +of booths and tents, a dense crowd walked backwards and forwards +with that steady sense of promenading which the Spaniard understands +above all other men. The dealers in coloured handkerchiefs from +Barcelona or mantillas from Seville were driving a great trade, and +the majority of them had long since shouted themselves hoarse. A +few quack dentists were operating upon their victims under the +friendly covert of a big drum and a bassoon. Dealers in wonderful +drugs and herbs were haranguing the crowd, easily gaining the +attention of the simple peasants by handling a live snake or a +crocodile which they allowed to crawl upon their shoulders. + +Conyngham lingered in the crowd, which was orderly enough, and +amused himself by noting the credulity of the country folk, until +his attention was attracted by a solemn procession passing up the +market-place behind the tents. He inquired of a bystander what this +might be. + +'It is the police carrying to his apartment the body of Colonel +Monreal, who was murdered this afternoon in the Plaza Mayor,' was +the answer. + +Conyngham made his way between two tents to the deserted side of the +market-place, and, running past the procession, reached the barber's +shop before it. In answer to his summons a girl came to the door of +the Colonel's apartment. She was weeping and moaning in great +mental distress. + +Without explanation Conyngham pushed past her into the room where he +had deposited the letter. The room was in disorder, and no letter +lay upon the table. + +'It is,' sobbed the girl, 'my husband, who, having heard that the +good Colonel had been murdered, stole all his valuables and papers +and has run away from me.' + + + +CHAPTER XI. A TANGLED WEB. + + + +'Wherein I am false, I am honest--not true to be true.' + +'And--would you believe it?--there are soldiers in the house, at the +very door of Julia's apartments.' Senora Barenna, who made this +remark, heaved a sigh and sat back in her canework chair with that +jerkiness of action which in elderly ladies usually betokens +impatience with the ways of young people. + +'Policemen--policemen, not soldiers,' corrected Father Concha +patiently, as if it did not matter much. They were sitting in the +broad vine-clad verandah of the Casa Barenna, that grim old house on +the Bobadilla road, two miles from Ronda. The priest had walked +thither, as the dust on his square-toed shoes and black stockings +would testify. He had laid aside his mournful old hat, long since +brown and discoloured, and was wiping his forehead with a cheap +pocket-handkerchief of colour and pattern rather loud for his +station in life. + +'Well, they have swords,' persisted the lady. + +'Policemen,' said Father Concha, in a stern and final voice, which +caused Senora Barenna to cast her eyes upwards with an air of +resigned martyrdom. + +'Ah, that Alcalde!' she whispered between her teeth. + +'A little dog, when it is afraid, growls,' said Concha +philosophically. 'The Alcalde is a very small dog, and he is at his +wit's end. Such a thing has not occurred in Ronda before, and the +Alcalde's world is Ronda. He does not know whether his office +permits him to inspect young ladies' love letters or not.' + +'Love letters!' ejaculated Senora Barenna. She evidently had a keen +sense of the romantic, and hoped for something more tragic than a +mere flirtation begotten of idleness at sea. + +'Yes,' said Concha, crossing his legs and looking at his companion +with a queer cynicism. 'Young people mostly pass that way.' + +He had had a tragedy, this old man. One of those grim tragedies of +the cassock which English people rarely understand. And his tragedy +sat beside him on the cane chair, stout and eminently worldly, while +he had journeyed on the road of life with all his illusions, all his +half-fledged aspirations, untouched by the cold finger of reality. +He despised the woman now, the contempt lurked in his cynical smile, +but he clung with a half-mocking, open-eyed sarcasm to his memories. + +'But,' he said reassuringly, 'Julia is a match for the Alcalde, you +may rest assured of that.' + +Senora Barenna turned with a gesture of her plump hand indicative of +bewilderment. + +'I do not understand her. She laughs at the soldiers--the +policemen, I mean. She laughs at me. She laughs at everything.' + +'Yes, it is the hollow hearts that make most noise in the world,' +said Concha, folding his handkerchief upon his knee. He was deadly +poor, and had a theory that a folded handkerchief remains longer +clean. His whole existence was an effort to do without those things +that make life worth living. + +'Why did you send for me?' he asked. + +'But to advise me--to help me. I have been, all my life, cast upon +the world alone. No one to help me--no one to understand. No one +knows what I have suffered--my husband--' + +'Was one of the best and most patient of mortals, and is assuredly +in heaven, where I hope there are a few mansions reserved for men +only.' + +Senora Barenna fetched one of her deepest sighs. She had a few +lurking in the depth of her capacious being, reserved for such +occasions as this. It was, it seemed, no more than her life had led +her to expect. + +'You have had,' went on her spiritual adviser, 'a life of ease and +luxury, a husband who denied you nothing. You have never lost a +child by death, which I understand is--one of the greatest sorrows +that God sends to women. You are an ungrateful female.' + +Senora Barenna, whose face would have graced one of the very +earliest of the martyrs, sat with folded hands waiting until the +storm should pass. + +'Do you wish me to see Julia?' asked Concha abruptly. + +'Yes--yes! And persuade her to conciliate the Alcalde--to tell him +some story or another. It does not surely matter if it be not the +strict truth. Anything to get these men out of the house. My maid +Maria is so flighty. Ah--these young people! What a trial--my dear +Padre, what a trial!' + +'Of course,' said Father Concha. 'But what a dull world it would be +if our neighbour knew how to manage his own affairs! Shall we go to +Julia?' + +The perturbed lady preferred that the priest should see her daughter +alone. A military-looking individual in white trousers and a dark +green tunic stood guard over the door of Julia's apartment, seeking +by his attitude and the curl of his moustache to magnify his office +in the eyes of a maid who happened to have an unusual amount of +cleaning to do in that particular corridor. + +'Ah!' said Father Concha, by no means abashed by the sentinel's +sword. 'Ah, it is you, Manuel. Your wife tells me you have +objections to the christening of that last boy of yours, number +five, I think. Bring number five on Sunday, after vespers--eh? You +understand--and a little something for the poor. It is pay day on +Saturday. And no more nonsense about religion, Manuel, eh?' + +He shook his lean finger in the official's face and walked on +unchallenged. + +'May I come in?' he said, tapping at the door; and Julia's voice +bade him enter. + +He closed the door behind him and laid aside his hat. Then he stood +upright, and slowly rubbing his hands together looked at Julia with +the humorous twinkle lurking in his eye and its companion dimple +twitching in his lean cheek. Then he began to feel his pockets, +passing his hands down his worn cassock. + +'Let me see, I had a love letter--was it from Don Carlos? At all +events, I have lost it!' + +He laughed, made a perfunctory sign of the cross and gave her his +blessing. Then, his face having become suddenly grave as if by +machinery at the sound of the solemn Latin benediction, he sat down. + +Julia looked worn and eager. Her eyes seemed to search his face for +news. + +'Yes, my dear child,' he said. 'Politics are all very well as a +career. But without a distinct profit they are worth the attention +of few men, and never worth the thought of a woman.' + +He looked at her keenly, and she turned to the window, which was +open to admit the breath of violets and other flowers of the spring. +She shrugged her shoulders and gave a sharp sigh. + +'See here, my child,' said Padre Concha abruptly. 'For reasons +which concern no one, I take a great interest in your happiness. +You resemble some one whose welfare was once more important to me +than my own. That was long ago, and I now consider myself first, as +all wise men should. I am your friend, Julia, and much too old to +be over-scrupulous. I peep and pry into my neighbours' affairs, and +I am uneasy about you, my child.' + +He shook his head and drummed upon the table with his dirty fingers. + +'Thank you,' answered the girl with her defiant little laugh, 'but I +can manage my own affairs.' + +The priest nodded reflectively. + +'Yes,' he said. 'It is natural that you should say that. One of +the chief blessings of youth is self confidence. Heaven forbid that +I should shake yours. But, you see, there are several people who +happen to be anxious that this little affair should blow over and be +forgotten. The Alcalde is a mule, we know that, and anything that +serves to magnify himself and his office is likely to be prolonged. +Do not play into his hand. As I tell you, there are some who wish +to forget this incident, and one of them is coming to see you this +afternoon.' + +'Ah!' said the girl indifferently. + +'General Vincente.' + +Julia changed colour and her eyelids flickered for a moment as she +looked out of the open window. + +'A good friend,' continued Concha, 'but--' + +He finished the phrase with an eloquent little gesture of the hand. +At this moment they both heard the sound of an approaching carriage. + +'He is coming now,' said Concha. 'He is driving, so Estella is with +him.' + +'Estella is of course jealous.' + +The priest looked at her with a slow wise smile and said nothing. + +'She--' began Julia, and then closed her lips--true to that esprit +de sexe which has ruled through all the ages. Then Julia Barenna +gave a sharp sigh as her mind reverted from Estella's affairs to her +own. + +Sitting thus in silence, the two occupants of the quiet room heard +the approach of steps and the clink of spurs in the corridor. + +'It is the reverendo who visits the senorita,' they heard the voice +of the sentinel explain deprecatingly. + +The priest rose and went to the door, which he opened. + +'Only as a friend,' he said. 'Come in, General.' + +General Vincente entered the room followed by Estella. He nodded to +Concha and kissed his niece affectionately. + +'Still obdurate?' he said, with a semi-playful tap on her shoulder. +'Still obdurate? My dear Julia, in peace and war the greatest +quality in the strong is mercy. You have proved yourself strong-- +you have worsted that unfortunate Alcalde--be merciful to him now, +and let this incident finish.' + +He drew forward a chair, the others being seated, and laid aside his +gloves. The sword which he held upright between his knees, with his +two hands resting on the hilt, looked incongruously large and +reached the level of his eyes. He gave a little chuckling laugh. + +'I saw him last night at the Cafe Real--the poor man had the air of +a funeral, and took his wine as if it were sour. Ah! these +civilians, they amuse one--they take life so seriously.' + +He laughed and looked round at those assembled as if inviting them +to join him in a gayer and easier view of existence. The Padre's +furrowed face answered the summons in a sudden smile, but it was +with grave eyes that he looked searchingly at the most powerful man +in Andalusia; for General Vincente's word was law south of the +Tagus. + +The two men sat side by side in strong contrast. Fate indeed seems +to shake men together in a bag, and cast them out upon the world +heedless where they may fall; for here was a soldier in the priest's +habit, and one carrying a sword who had the keen heart and sure +sympathy for joy or sorrow that should ever be found within a black +coat if the Master's work is to be well done. + +General Vincente smiled at Estella with sang-froid and an unruffled +good nature, while the Padre Concha, whose place it surely was to +take the lead in such woman's work as this, slowly rubbed his bony +hands together, at a loss and incompetent to meet the urgency of the +moment. + +'Our guest left us yesterday morning,' said the General, 'and of +course the Alcalde placed no hindrance on his departure.' + +He did not look at Julia, who drew a deep breath and glanced at +Estella. + +'I do not know if Senor Conyngham left any message for you with +Estella--to me he said nothing,' continued Estella's father; and +that young lady shook her head. + +'No,' she put in composedly. + +'Then it remains for us to close this foolish incident, my dear +Julia; and for me to remind you, seeing that you are fatherless, +that there are in Spain many adventurers who come here seeking the +sport of love or war, who will ride away when they have had their +fill of either.' + +He ceased speaking with a tolerant laugh, as one who, being a +soldier himself, would beg indulgence for the failings of his +comrades, examined the hilt of his sword, and then looked blandly +round on three faces which resolutely refused to class the absent +Englishman in this category. + +'It remains, my dear niece, to satisfy the Alcalde--a mere glance at +the letter--sufficient to satisfy him as to the nature of its +contents.' + +'I have no letter,' said Julia quietly, with her level red lips set +hard. + +'Not in your possession, but perhaps concealed in some place near at +hand--unless it is destroyed.' + +'I have destroyed no letter, I have concealed no letter, and I have +no letter,' said the girl quietly. Estella moved uneasily in the +chair. Her face was colourless and her eyes shone. She watched her +cousin's face intently, and beneath his shaggy brows the old +priest's eyes went from one fair countenance to the other. + +'Then,' cried the General, rising to his feet with an air of relief, +'you have but to assure the Alcalde of this, and the whole incident +is terminated. Blown over, my dear Concha--blown over!' + +He tapped the priest on the shoulder with great good nature. +Indeed, the world seemed sunny enough and free from cares when +General Vincente had to deal with it. + +'Yes--yes,' said the Padre, snuff-box in hand. 'Blown over--of +course.' + +'Then I may send the Alcalde to you, Julia--and you will tell him +what you have told us? He cannot but take the word of a lady.' + +'Yes--if you like,' answered Julia. + +The General's joy knew no bounds. + +'That is well,' he cried, 'I knew we could safely rely upon your +good sense. Kiss me, Julia--that is well! Come, Estella--we must +not keep the horses waiting.' + +With a laugh and a nod he went towards the door. 'Blown over, my +dear Concha,' he said over his shoulder. + +A few minutes later the priest walked down the avenue of walnut +trees alone. The bell was ringing for vespers, but the Padre was an +autocratic shepherd and did not hurry towards his flock. The sun +had set, and in the hollows of the distant mountains the shades of +night already lay like a blue veil. + +The priest walked on and presently reached the high road. A single +figure was upon it--the figure of a man sitting in the shadow of an +ilex tree half a mile up the road towards Bobadilla. The man +crouched low against a heap of stones and had the air of a wanderer. +His face was concealed in the folds of his cloak. + +'Blown over,' muttered the Padre as he turned his back upon +Bobadilla and went on towards his church. 'Blown over, of course; +but what is Concepcion Vara doing in the neighbourhood of Ronda to- +night?' + + + +CHAPTER XII. ON THE TOLEDO ROAD. + + + +'Une bonne intention est une echelle trop courte.' + +Conyngham made his way without difficulty or incident from Xeres to +Cordova, riding for the most part in front of the clumsy diligencia +wherein he had bestowed his luggage. The road was wearisome enough, +and the last stages, through the fertile plains bordering the +Guadalquivir, dusty and monotonous. + +At Cordova the traveller found comfortable quarters in an old inn +overlooking the river. The ancient city was then, as it is now, a +great military centre, and the headquarters of the picturesque corps +of horse-tamers, the 'Remonta,' who are responsible for the mounting +of the cavalry and the artillery of Spain. Conyngham had, at the +suggestion of General Vincente, made such small changes in his +costume as would serve to allay curiosity and prevent that gossip of +the stable and kitchen which may follow a traveller to his hurt from +one side of a continent to the other. + +'Wherever you may go learn your way in and out of every town, and +you will thus store up knowledge most useful to a soldier,' the +General had said in his easy way. + +'See you,' Concepcion had observed, wagging his head over a +cigarette; 'to go about the world with the eyes open is to conquer +the world.' + +From his guide, moreover, whose methods were those that Nature +teaches to men who live their daily lives in her company, Conyngham +learnt much of that road craft which had raised Concepcion Vara to +such a proud eminence among the rascals of Andalusia. Cordova was a +good object upon which to practise, for Roman and Goth, Moor and +Christian, have combined to make its tortuous streets well-nigh +incomprehensible to the traveller's mind. + +Here Conyngham wandered, or else he sat somnolently on a seat in the +Paseo del Gran Capitan in the shade of the orange trees, awaiting +the arrival of Concepcion Vara. He made a few acquaintances, as +every traveller who is not a bear must needs do in a country where +politeness and hospitality and a grave good fellowship are the +natural habit of high and low alike. A bullfighter or two, who +beguiled the long winter months, when the rings are closed, by a +little innocent horse dealing, joined him quietly in the streets and +offered him a horse--as between gentlemen of undoubted honour--at a +price much below the current value. Or it was perhaps a beggar who +came to him on the old yellow marble seat under the orange trees, +and chatted affably about his business as being bad in these times +of war. Once, indeed, it was a white-haired gentleman, who spoke in +English, and asked some very natural questions as to the affairs +that brought an Englishman to the town of Cordova. This sweet- +spoken old man explained that strangers would do well to avoid all +questions of politics and religion, which he classed together in one +dangerous whole. Nevertheless, Conyngham thought that he perceived +his ancient friend the same evening hurrying up the steps of the +Jesuit College of La Campania. + +Two days elapsed and Concepcion Vara made neither appearance nor +sign. On the second evening Conyngham decided to go on alone, +prosecuting his journey through the sparsely populated valley of the +Alcadia to Ciudad Real, Toledo, and Madrid. + +'You will ride,' the innkeeper told him, 'from the Guadalquivir to +the Guadiana, and if there is rain you may be a month upon the +road.' + +Conyngham set out in the early morning, and as he threw his leg +across the saddle the sun rose over the far misty hills of Ronda, +and Concepcion Vara awoke from his night's rest under the wall of an +olive terrace above the Bobadilla road, to begin another day of +patient waiting and watching to get speech with the maid or the +mistress; for he had already inaugurated what he lightly called 'an +affair' with Julia's flighty attendant. The sun rose also over the +plains of Xeres, and lighted up the picturesque form of Esteban +Larralde, in the saddle this hour and more, having learnt that +Colonel Monreal's death took place an hour before Conyngham's +arrival in the town of Xeres de la Frontera. The letter, therefore, +had not been delivered to Colonel Monreal, and was still in +Conyngham's possession. + +Larralde bestrode a shocking steed, and had but an indifferent seat +in the saddle. Nevertheless, the dust rose beneath his horse's +feet, and his spurs flashed in the sunlight as this man of many +parts hurried on towards Utrera and Cordova. + +In the old Moorish palace in Ronda, General Vincente, summoned to a +great council of war at Madrid, was making curt military +preparations for his journey and the conveyance of his household to +the capital. Senora Barenna was for the moment forgetful of her +nerves in the excitement of despatching servants in advance to +Toledo, where she owned a summer residence. Julia was nervously +anxious to be on the road again, and showed by every word and action +that restlessness of spirit which is the inheritance of hungry +hearts. Estella, quiet and self-contained, attended to the details +of moving a vast and formal household with a certain eagerness which +in no way resembled Julia's feverish haste. Estella seemed to be +one of those happy people who know what they want. + +Thus Frederick Conyngham, riding northward alone, seemed to be a +pilot to all these persons into whose lives he had suddenly stepped +as from a side issue, for they were one and all making ready to +follow him to the colder plains of Castile, where existence was full +of strife and ambition, of war and those inner wheels that ever jar +and grind where politicians contend together for the mastery of a +moment. + +As he rode on, Conyngham left a message from time to time for his +self-appointed servant. At the offices of the diligencias in +various towns on the great road from Cordova to Madrid he left word +for Concepcion Vara to follow, should the spirit of travel be still +upon him, knowing that at these places where travellers were ever +passing, the tittle-tattle of the road was on the tongue of every +ostler and stable help. And truly enough there followed one who +made careful inquiries as to the movements of the Englishman, and +heard his messages with a grim smile. But this was not Concepcion +Vara. + +It was late one evening when Conyngham, who had quitted Toledo in +the morning, began to hunger for the sight of the towers and +steeples of Madrid. He had ridden all day through the bare country +of Cervantes, where to this day Spain rears her wittiest men and +plainest women. The sun had just set behind the distant hills of +Old Castile, and from the east, over Aranjuez, where the great river +cuts Spain in two parts from its centre to the sea, a grey cloud--a +very shade of night--was slowly rising. The aspect of the brown +plains was dismal enough, and on the horizon the rolling unbroken +land seemed to melt away into eternity and infinite space. + +Conyngham reined in and looked around him. So far as eye could +reach, no house arose to testify to the presence of man. No +labourer toiled home to his lonely hut. For, in this country of +many wars and interminable strife, it has, since the days of +Nebuchadnezzar, been the custom of the people to congregate in +villages and small townships, where a common danger secured some +protection against a lawless foe. The road rose and fell in a +straight line across the table-land without tree or hedge, and +Madrid seemed to belong to another world, for the horizon, which was +distant enough, bore no sign of cathedral spire or castle height. + +Conyngham turned in his saddle to look back, and there, not a mile +away, the form of a hurrying horseman broke the bare line of the +dusty road. There was something weird and disturbing in this +figure, a suggestion of pursuit in every line. For this was not +Concepcion Vara. Conyngham would have known him at once. This was +one wearing a better coat; indeed Concepcion preferred to face life +and the chances of the world in shirt sleeves. + +Conyngham sat in his saddle awaiting the new-comer. To meet on such +a road in Spain without pausing to exchange a salutation would be a +gratuitous insult, to ride in solitude within hail of another +traveller were to excite or betray the deepest distrust. It was +characteristic of Conyngham that he already waved his hand in +salutation, and was prepared to hail the new-comer as the jolliest +companion in the world. + +Esteban Larralde, seeing the salutation, gave a short laugh, and +jerked the reins of his tired horse. He himself wore a weary look, +as if the fight he had in hand were an uphill one. He had long +recognised Conyngham; indeed the chase had been one of little +excitement, but rather an exercise of patience and dogged +perseverance. He raised his hat to indicate that the Englishman's +gay salutations were perceived, and pulled the wide brim well +forward again. + +'He will change his attitude when it becomes apparent who I am,' he +muttered. + +But Conyngham's first word would appear to suggest that Esteban +Larralde was a much less impressive person than he considered +himself. + +'Why, it's the devout lover!' he cried. 'Senor Larralde, you +remember me, Algeciras, and your pink love letter--deuced fishy love +letter, that; nearly got me into a devil of a row, I can tell you. +How are you, eh?' + +And the Englishman rode forward with a jolly laugh and his hand held +out. Larralde took it without enthusiasm. It was rather difficult +to pick a picturesque quarrel with such a person as this. Moreover, +the true conspirator never believes in another man's honesty. + +'Who would have expected to meet you here?' went on Conyngham +jovially. + +'It is not so surprising as you think.' + +'Oh!' + +There was no mistaking Larralde's manner, and the Englishman's gay +blue eyes hardened suddenly and rather surprisingly. + +'No, I have followed you. I want that letter.' + +'Well, as it happens, Senor Larralde, I have not got your letter, +and if I had I am not quite sure that I would give it to you. Your +conduct in the matter has not been over-nice, and, to tell you the +truth, I don't think much of a man who gets strangers and women to +do his dirty work for him.' + +Larralde stroked his moustache with a half-furtive air of contempt. + +'I should have given the confounded letter to the Alcalde of Ronda +if it had not been that a lady would have suffered for it, and let +you take your chance, Senor Larralde.' + +Larralde shrugged his shoulders. + +'You would not have given it to the Alcalde of Ronda,' he said in a +sneering voice, 'because you want it yourself. You require it in +order to make your peace with Estella Vincente.' + +'We are not going to talk of Senorita Vincente,' said Conyngham +quietly. 'You say you followed me because you wanted that letter. +It is not in my possession. I left it in the house of Colonel +Monreal at Xeres. If you are going on to Madrid, I think I will sit +down here and have a cigarette. If, on the other hand, you propose +resting here, I shall proceed, as it is getting late.' + +Conyngham looked at his companion with a nod and a smile which was +not in the least friendly and at the same time quite cheerful. He +seemed to recognise the necessity of quarrelling, but proposed to do +so as light-heartedly as possible. They were both on horseback in +the middle of the road, Larralde a few paces in the direction of +Madrid. + +Conyngham indicated the road with an inviting wave of the hand. + +'Will you go on?' he asked. + +Larralde sat looking at him with glittering eyes, and said nothing. + +'Then I will continue my journey,' said the Englishman, touching his +horse lightly with the spur. The horse moved on and passed within a +yard of the other. At this moment Larralde rose in his stirrups and +flung himself on one side. + +Conyngham gave a sharp cry of pain and threw back his head. +Larralde had stabbed him in the back. The Englishman swayed in the +saddle as if trying to balance himself, his legs bent back from the +knee in the sharpness of a biting pain. The heavy stirrups swung +free. Then, slowly, Conyngham toppled forward and rolled out of the +saddle, falling to the road with a thud. + +Larralde watched him with a white face and staring eyes. Then he +looked quickly round over the darkening landscape. There was no one +in sight. This was one of the waste places of the world. Larralde +seemed to remember the Eye that seeth even there, and crossed +himself as he slipped from the saddle to the ground. He was shaking +all over. His face was ashen, for it is a terrible thing to kill a +man and be left alone with him. + +Conyngham's eyes were closed. There was blood on his lips. With +hands that shook like leaves Esteban Larralde searched the +Englishman, found nothing, and cursed his ill fortune. Then he +stood upright, and in the dim light his face shone as if he had +dipped it in water. He crept into the saddle and rode on towards +Madrid. + +It was quite dark when Conyngham recovered consciousness. In +turning him over to search his pockets Larralde had perhaps, +unwittingly, saved his life by placing him in a position that +checked the internal haemorrhage. What served to bring back the +Englishman's wandering senses was the rumbling of heavy wheels and +the crack of a great whip as a cart laden with hay and drawn by six +mules approached him from the direction of Toledo. + +The driver of the team was an old soldier, as indeed were most of +the Castilians at this time, and knew how to handle wounded men. +With great care and a multitude of oaths he lifted Conyngham on to +his cart and proceeded with him to Madrid. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. A WISE IGNORAMUS. + + + +'God help me! I know nothing--can but pray.' + +It was Father Concha's custom to attend, at his church between the +hours of nine and ten in the morning, to such wants spiritual or +temporal as individual members of his flock chose to bring to him. + +Thus it usually happened that the faithful found the old priest at +nine o'clock sunning himself at the front door of the sacred +edifice, smoking a reflective cigarette and exchanging the time of +day with passers-by or such as had leisure to pause a moment. + +'Whether it is body or soul that is in trouble--come to me,' he +would say. 'For the body I can do a little--a very little. I have +twenty pounds a year, and it is not always paid to me, but I +sometimes have a trifle for charity. For the soul I can do a little +more.' After a storm of wind and rain, such as come in the winter- +time, it was no uncommon sight to see the priest sweeping the leaves +and dust from the church steps and using the strongest language at +the bootmaker over the way whose business this was supposed to be. + +'See!' he would cry to some passer-by. 'See!--it is thus that our +sacristan does his work. It is for this that the Holy Church pays +him fifteen--or is it twenty?--pesetas each year.' + +And the bootmaker would growl and shake his head over his last; for, +like most who have to do with leather, he was a man of small humour. + +Here, too, mothers would bring their children--little girls cowering +under their bright handkerchiefs, the mantilla of the poor, and +speak with the Padre of the Confirmation and first Communion which +had lately begun to hang like a cloud over the child's life. Father +Concha would take the child upon his knee as he sat on the low wall +at the side of the steps, and when the mother had left them, would +talk quietly with the lines of his face wonderfully softened, so +that before long the little girl would run home quite happy in mind +and no longer afraid of the great unknown. Here, in the spring +time, came the young men with thoughts appropriate to the season, +and sheepish exceedingly; for they knew that Father Concha knew all +about them, and would take an unfair advantage of his opportunities, +refusing probably to perform the ceremony until he was satisfied as +to the ways and means and prudence of the contracting parties--which +of course he had no right to do. Here came the halt, the lame, the +blind, the poor, and also the rich. Here came the unhappy. They +came naturally and often. Here, so the bootmaker tells, came one +morning a ruined man, who after speaking a few words to the Padre, +produced a revolver and tried to shoot himself. And the Padre fell +on him like a wild beast. And they fought, and fell, and rolled +down the steps together into the road, where they still fought till +they were white like millers with dust. Then at last the Padre got +the strong man under him and took the revolver away and threw it +into the ditch. Then he fell to belabouring the would-be suicide +with his fists, until the big man cried for mercy and received it +not. + +'You saved his life,' the people said. + +'It was his soul that I was caring for,' replied the Padre with his +grim smile. + +Concha was not a clever man, but he was wise. Of learning he had +but little. It is easy, however, to be wise without being learned. +It is easier still to be learned without being wise. The world is +full of such persons to-day when education is too cheap. Concha +steered his flock as best he could through the stormy paths of +insurrection and civil war. He ruled with a rod of iron whom he +could, and such as were beyond his reach he influenced by ridicule +and a patient tolerance. True to his cloth, he was the enemy of all +progress and distrusted every innovation. + +'The Padre,' said the barber, who was a talker and a radical, 'would +have the world stand still.' + +'The Padre,' replied Concha, tenderly drying his chin with a towel, +'would have all barbers attend to their razors. Many are so busy +shouting "Advance!" that they have no breath to ask whither they are +going.' + +On the whole, perhaps, his autocratic rule was a beneficent one, and +contributed to the happiness of the little northern suburb of Ronda +over which it extended. At all events, he was a watchful guardian +of his flock, and knew every face in his parish. + +It thus happened one morning that a strange woman, who had come +quietly into church to pray, attracted his attention as he passed +out after matins. She was a mere peasant and ill clad. The child +seated on a chair by her side and staring with wondering eyes at the +simple altar and stained-glass window had a hungry look. + +Concha sat down on the low wall without the doors and awaited the +exit of this devotee who was not of his flock. For though, as he +often said, the good God had intended him for a soldier, his own +strong will and simple faith had in time produced a very passable +priest who, with a grim face, went about doing good. + +The woman presently lifted the heavy leathern curtain and let out +into the sunlight a breath of cool, incense-laden air. + +She curtsied and paused as if expecting recognition. Concha threw +away his cigarette and raised his hand to his hat. He had not +lifted it except to ladies of the highest quality for some years, +out of regard to symptoms of senile decay which had manifested +themselves at the junction of the brim and the crown. + +'Have I not seen your face before, my child?' he said. + +'Yes, reverendo. I am of Ronda but have been living in Xeres.' + +'Ah! then your husband is no doubt a malcontent?' + +The woman burst into tears, burying her face in her hands and +leaning against the wall in an attitude that was still girlish. She +had probably been married at fifteen. + +'No, reverendo! He is a thief.' + +Concha merely nodded his head. He never had been a man to betray +much pious horror when he heard of ill-doing. + +'The two are almost identical,' he said quietly. 'One does what the +other fears to do. And is your husband in prison? Is that why you +have come back? Ah! you women--in foolishness you almost equal the +men!' + +'No, reverendo. I am come back because he has left me. Sebastian +has run away, and has stolen all his master's property. It was the +Colonel Monreal of Xeres--a good man, reverendo, but a politician.' + +'Ah!' + +'Yes, and he was murdered, as your reverence has no doubt seen in +the newspapers. A week ago it was--the day that the Englishman came +with a letter.' + +'What Englishman was that?' inquired Father Concha, brushing some +grains of snuff from his sleeve. 'What Englishman was that, my +child?' + +'Oh, I do not know! His name is unknown to me, but I could tell he +was English from his manner of speaking. The Colonel had an English +friend who spoke so--one engaged in the sherry in Xeres.' + +'Ah yes! And this Englishman, what was he like?' + +'He was very tall and straight, like a soldier, and had a moustache +quite light in colour, like straw.' + +'Ah yes. The English are so. And he left a letter?' + +'Yes, reverendo.' + +'A rose-coloured letter--?' + +'Yes,' said the woman, looking at him with surprise. + +'And tell me what happened afterwards. I may perhaps be able to +help you, my child, if you tell me all you know.' + +'And then, reverendo, the police brought back the Colonel who had +been murdered in the streets--and I who had his Excellency's dinner +on the table waiting for him!' + +'And--' + +'And Sebastian ate the dinner, reverendo.' + +'Your husband appears to be a man of action,' said Concha with a +queer smile. 'And then--' + +'Sebastian sent me on a message to the town, and when I came back he +was gone and all his Excellency's possessions were gone--his papers +and valuables.' + +'Including the letter which the Englishman had left for the +Colonel?' + +'Yes, reverendo. Sebastian knew that in these times the papers of a +politician may perhaps be sold for money.' + +Concha nodded his head reflectively and took a pinch of snuff with +infinite deliberation and enjoyment. + +'Yes--assuredly, Sebastian is one of those men who get on in the +world--up to a certain point--and at that point they get hanged. +There is in the universe a particular spot for each man--where we +all think we should like to go if we had the money. For me it is +Rome. Doubtless Sebastian had some such spot, of which he spoke +when he was intoxicated. Where is Sebastian's earthly paradise, +think you, my child?' + +'He always spoke of Madrid, reverendo.' + +'Yes--yes, I can imagine he would.' + +'And I have no money to follow him,' sobbed the woman, breaking into +tears again. 'So I came to Ronda, where I am known, to seek it.' + +'Ah, foolish woman!' exclaimed the priest severely, and shaking his +finger at her. 'Foolish woman to think of following such a person. +More foolish still is it to weep for a worthless husband, especially +in public, thus, on the church steps, where all may see. All the +other women will be so pleased. It is their greatest happiness to +think that their neighbour's husband is worse than their own. +Failure is the royal road to popularity. Dry your tears, foolish +one, before you make too many friends.' + +The woman obeyed him mechanically with a sort of dumb hopelessness. + +At this moment a horseman clattered past, coming from Ronda and +hastening in the direction of Bobadilla or perhaps to the Casa +Barenna. He wore his flat-brimmed hat well forward over the eyes, +and kept his gaze fixed upon the road in front. There was a faint +suggestion of assumed absorption in his attitude, as if he knew that +the priest was usually at the church door at this hour, and had no +desire to meet his eye. It was Larralde. + +A few minutes later Julia Barenna, who was sitting at her window +watching and waiting--her attitude in life--suddenly rose with eyes +that gleamed and trembling hands. She stood and gazed down into the +valley below, her attention fixed on the form of a horseman slowly +making his way through the olive groves. Then breathlessly she +turned to her mirror. + +'At last!' she whispered, her fingers busy with her hair and +mantilla, a thousand thoughts flying through her brain, her heart +throbbing in her breast. In a moment the aspect of the whole world +had changed--in a moment Julia herself was another woman. Ten years +seemed to have rolled away from her heart, leaving her young and +girlish and hopeful again. She gave one last look at herself and +hurried to the door. + +It was yet early in the day, and the air beneath the gnarled and +ancient olive trees was cool and fresh as Julia passed under them to +meet her lover. He threw himself out of the saddle when he saw her, +and, leaving his horse loose, ran to meet her. He took her hands +and raised her fingers to his lips with a certain fervour which was +sincere enough. For Larralde loved Julia according to his lights, +though he had another mistress, Ambition, who was with him always +and filled his thoughts, sleeping or waking. Julia, her face all +flushed, her eyes aglow, received his gallant greeting with a sort +of breathless eagerness. She knew she had not Larralde's whole +heart, and, woman-like, was not content with half. + +'I have not seen you for nearly a fortnight,' she said. + +'Ah!' answered Larralde, who had apparently not kept so strict an +account of the days. 'Ah! yes--I know. But, dearest, I have been +burning the high-roads. I have been almost to Madrid. Ah! Julia, +why did you make such a mistake?' + +'What mistake?' she asked with a sudden light of coquetry in her +eyes. She thought he was about to ask her why she loved him. In +former days he had had a pretty turn for such questions. + +'In giving the letter to that scoundrel Conyngham--he has betrayed +us, and Spain is no longer safe for me.' + +'Are you sure of this?' asked Julia, alert. Had she possessed +Larralde's whole heart she would have been happy enough to take part +in his pursuits. + +Larralde gave a short laugh and shrugged his shoulders. + +'Heaven only knows where the letter is now,' he answered. Julia +unfolded a note and handed it to him. She had received it three +weeks earlier from Concepcion Vara, and it was from Conyngham, +saying that he had left her note at the house of the Colonel. + +'The Colonel was dead before Conyngham arrived at Xeres,' said +Larralde shortly. 'And I do not believe he ever left the letter. I +suspected that he had kept it as a little recommendation to the +Christinos under whom he takes service. It would have been the most +natural thing to do. But I have satisfied myself that the letter is +not in his possession.' + +'How?' asked Julia with a sudden fear that blanched her face. + +Larralde smiled in rather a sickly way and made no answer. He +turned and looked down the avenue. + +'I see Father Concha approaching,' he said; 'let us go towards the +house.' + + + +CHAPTER XIV. A WEIGHT OF EVIDENCE. + + + +'The woman who loves you is at once your detective and accomplice.' + +The old priest was walking leisurely up the avenue towards the Casa +Barenna when the branches of a dwarf ilex were pushed aside, and +there came to him from their leafy concealment, not indeed a wood- +nymph, but Senora Barenna, with her finger at her lips. + +'Hush!' she said; 'he is here.' + +And from the anxious and excited expression of her face it became +apparent that madame's nerves were astir. + +'Who is here?' + +'Why, Esteban Larralde, of course.' + +'Ah!' said Concha patiently. 'But need we for that hide behind the +bushes and walk on the flower borders? Life would be much simpler, +senora, if people would only keep to the footpath. Less +picturesque, I allow you, but simpler. Shall I climb up a tree?' + +The lady cast her eyes up to heaven and heaved an exaggerated sigh. + +'Ah--what a tragedy life is!' she whispered, apparently to the +angels, but loud enough for her companion to hear. + +'Or a farce,' said Concha, 'according to our reading of the part. +Where is Senor Larralde?' + +'Oh, he has gone to the fruit garden with Julia--there is a high +wall all round, and one cannot see. She may be murdered by this +time. I knew he was coming from the manner in which she ran +downstairs. She walks at other times.' + +Concha smiled rather grimly. + +'She is not the first to do that,' he said, 'and many have stumbled +on the stairs in their haste.' + +'Ah! You are a hard man--a terrible man with no heart. And I have +no one to sympathise with me. No one knows what I suffer. I never +sleep at night--not a wink--but lie and think of my troubles. Julia +will not obey me. I have warned her not to rouse me to anger--and +she laughs at me. She persists in seeing this terrible Esteban +Larralde--a Carlist, if you please.' + +'We are all as God made us,' said Concha--'with embellishments added +by the Evil One,' he added, in a lower tone. + +'And now I am going to see General Vincente. I shall tell him to +send soldiers. This man's presence is intolerable--I am not obeyed +in my own house,' cried the lady. 'I have ordered the carriage to +meet me at the lower gate. I dare not drive away from my own door. +Ah! what a tragedy!' + +'I will go with you, since you are determined to go,' said Concha. + +'What! And leave Julia here with that terrible man?' + +'Yes,' answered the priest. 'Happiness is a dangerous thing to +meddle with. There is so little of it in the world, and it lasts so +short a time.' + +Senora Barenna indicated by a sigh and her attitude that she had had +no experience in the matter. As a simple fact, she had been enabled +all through her life to satisfy her own desires--the subtlest form +of misfortune. + +'Then you would have Julia marry this terrible man,' said the lady, +shielding her face from the sun with the black fan which she always +carried. + +'I am too old and too stupid to take any active part in my +neighbours' affairs. It is only the young and inexperienced who are +competent to do that,' answered the priest. + +'But you say you are fond of Julia.' + +'Yes,' said the priest quietly. + +'I wonder why.' + +'So do I,' he said in a tone that Senora Barenna never understood. + +'You are always kinder to her than you are to me,' went on the lady +in her most martyred manner. 'Her penances are always lighter than +mine. You are patient with her and not with me. And I am sure I +have never done you any injury--' + +The old Padre smiled. Perhaps he was thinking of those illusions +which she had during the years pulled down one by one--for the +greater peace of his soul. + +'There is the carriage,' he said. 'Let us hasten to General +Vincente--if you wish to see him.' + +In a few minutes they were rattling along the road, while Esteban +Larralde and Julia sat side by side in the shade of the great wall +that surrounded the fruit garden. And one at least of them was +gathering that quick harvest of love which is like the grass of the +field, inasmuch as to-day it is, and to-morrow is not. + +General Vincente was at home. He was one of those men who are happy +in finding themselves where they are wanted. So many have, on the +contrary, the misfortune to be always absent when they are required, +and the world soon learns to progress without them. + +'That man--that Larralde is in Ronda,' said Senora Barenna, bursting +in on the General's solitude. Vincente smiled, and nevertheless +exchanged a quick glance with Concha, who confirmed the news by a +movement of his shaggy eyebrows. + +'Ah, these young people!' exclaimed the General with a gay little +sigh. 'What it is to be young and in love! But be seated, Inez--be +seated. Padre--a chair.' + +'What do you propose to do?' asked Senora Barenna breathlessly, for +she was stout and agitated and had hurried up the steps. + +'When, my dear Inez--when?' + +'But now--with this man in Ronda. You know quite well he is +dangerous. He is a Carlist. It was only the other day that you +received an anonymous letter saying that your life was in danger. +Of course it was from the Carlists, and Larralde has something to do +with it; or that Englishman--that Senor Conyngham with the blue +eyes. A man with blue eyes--bah! Of course he is not to be +trusted.' + +The receiver of the anonymous warning seemed to be amused. + +'A little sweeping, your statements, my dear Inez. Is it not so? +Now, a lemonade! the afternoon is warm.' + +He rose and rang the bell. + +'My nerves,' whispered the Senora to Concha. 'My nerves--they are +so easily upset.' + +'The liqueurs,' said the General to the servant with perfect +gravity. + +'You must take steps at once,' urged Senora Barenna when they were +alone again. She was endowed with a magnificent imagination without +much wisdom to hold it in check, and at times persuaded herself that +she was in the midst, and perhaps the leader, of a dangerous whirl +of political events. + +'I will, my dear Inez; I will. And we will take a little +maraschino, to collect ourselves, eh?' + +And his manner quite indicated that it was he and not Madame Barenna +who was upset. The lady consented, and proceeded to what she took +to be a consultation, which in reality was a monologue. During this +she imparted a vast deal of information, and received none in +return, which is the habit of voluble people, and renders them +exceedingly dangerous to themselves and useful to others. + +Presently the two men conducted her to her carriage, with many +reassurances. + +'Never fear, Inez; never fear. He will be gone before you return,' +said the General, with a wave of the hand. He had consented to +invite Julia to accompany Estella and himself to Madrid, where she +would be out of harm's way. + +The two men then returned to the General's study, and sat down in +that silence which only grows to perfection on the deep soil of a +long-standing friendship. Vincente was the first to speak. + +'I have had a letter from Madrid,' he said, looking gravely at his +companion. 'My correspondent tells me that Conyngham has not yet +presented his letter of introduction, and, so far as is +ascertainable, has not arrived in the capital. He should have been +there six weeks ago.' + +The Padre took a pinch of snuff, and held the box out towards his +companion, who waved it aside. The General was too dainty a man to +indulge in such a habit. + +'He possessed no money, so he cannot have fallen a victim to +thieves,' said Concha. + +'He was accompanied by a good guide, and an honest enough scoundrel, +so he cannot have lost his way,' observed the General, with a queer +expression of optimistic distress on his face. + +'His movements were not always above suspicion--' the priest closed +his snuff-box and laboriously replaced it in the pocket of his +cassock. + +'That letter--it was a queer business!' and the General laughed. + +'Most suspicious.' + +There was a silence, during which Concha sneezed twice with +enjoyment and more noise than is usually considered necessary. + +'And your letter,' he said, carefully folding his handkerchief into +squares; 'that anonymous letter of warning that your life is +threatened--is that true? It is the talk of Ronda.' + +'Ah, that!' laughed Vincente. 'Yes, it is true enough. It is not +the first time--a mere incident, that is all.' + +'That which the Senora Barenna said just now,' observed the priest +slowly, 'about our English friend--may be true. Sometimes +thoughtless people arrive at a conclusion which eludes more careful +minds.' + +'Yes--my dear Padre--yes.' + +The two grey-headed men looked at each other for a moment in +silence. + +'And yet you trust him,' said Concha. + +'Despite myself, despite my better judgment, my dear friend.' + +The priest rose and went to the window which overlooked the garden. + +'Estella is in the garden?' he asked, and received no answer. + +'I know what you are thinking,' said the General. 'You are thinking +that we should do well to tell Estella of these distressing +suspicions.' + +'For you it does not matter,' replied the priest. 'It is a mere +incident, as you say. Your life has been attempted before, and you +killed both the men with your own hand, if I recollect aright.' + +Vincente shrugged his shoulders and looked rather embarrassed. + +'But a woman,' went on Concha, 'cannot afford to trust a man against +her better judgment.' + +By way of reply the General rose and rang the bell, requesting the +servant when he answered the summons to ask the senorita to spare a +few moments of her time. + +They exchanged no further words until Estella came hurrying into the +room with a sudden flush on her cheeks and something in her dark +eyes that made her father say at once - + +'It is not bad news that we have, my child.' + +Estella glanced at Concha and said nothing. His wise old eyes +rested for a moment on her face with a little frown of anxiety. + +'We have had a visit from the Senora Barenna,' went on the General, +'and she is anxious that we should invite Julia to go to Madrid with +us. It appears that Esteban Larralde is still attempting to force +his attentions on Julia, and is at present in Ronda. You will not +object to her coming with us?' + +'Oh no,' said Estella without much interest. + +'We have also heard rather disquieting news about our pleasant +friend, Mr. Conyngham,' said the General, examining the tassel of +his sword. 'And I think it is only right to tell you that I fear we +have been deceived in him.' + +There was silence for a few moments, and then Vincente spoke again. + +'In these times, one is almost compelled to suspect one's nearest +friends. Much harm may be done by being over-trustful, and +appearances are so consistently against Mr. Conyngham that it would +be folly to ignore them.' + +The General waited for Estella to make some comment, and after a +pause continued + +'He arrived in Ronda under singularly unfortunate circumstances, and +I was compelled to have his travelling companion shot. Then +occurred that affair of the letter, which he gave to Julia--an +affair which has never been explained. Conyngham would have to show +me that letter before I should be quite satisfied. I obtained for +him an introduction to General Espartero in Madrid. That was six or +seven weeks ago. The introduction has not been presented, nor has +Conyngham been seen in Madrid. In England, on his own confession, +he was rather a scamp; why not the same in Spain?' + +The General spread out his hands in his favourite gesture of +deprecation. He had not made the world, and while deeply deploring +that such things could be, he tacitly admitted that the human race +had not been, creatively speaking, a complete success. + +Father Concha was brushing invisible grains of snuff from his +cassock sleeve and watching Estella with anxious eyes. + +'I only tell you, my dear,' continued the General, 'so that we may +know how to treat Mr. Conyngham should we meet him in Madrid. I +liked him. I like a roving man--and many Englishmen are thus +wanderers--but appearances are very much against him.' + +'Yes,' admitted Estella quietly. 'Yes.' + +She moved towards the door, and there turning looked at Concha. + +'Does the Padre stay to dinner?' she asked. + +'No, my child, thank you. No; I have affairs at home.' + +Estella went out of the room, leaving a queer silence behind her. + +Presently Concha rose. + +'I, too, am going to Madrid,' he said. 'It is an opportunity to +press my claim for the payment of my princely stipend, now two years +overdue.' + +He walked home on the shady side of the street, exchanging many +salutations, pausing now and then to speak to a friend. Indeed, +nearly every passer-by counted himself as such. In his bare room, +where the merest necessities of life scarce had place, he sat down +thoughtfully. The furniture, the few books, his own apparel, +bespoke the direst poverty. This was one who in his simplicity read +his Master's words quite literally, and went about his work with +neither purse nor scrip. The priest presently rose and took from a +shelf an old wooden box quaintly carved and studded with iron nails. +A search in the drawer of the table resulted in the finding of a key +and the final discovery of a small parcel at the bottom of the box +which contained letters and other papers. + +'The rainy day--it comes at last,' said the Padre Concha, counting +out his little stock of silver with the care that only comes from +the knowledge that each coin represents a self-denial. + + + +CHAPTER XV. AN ULTIMATUM. + + + +'I do believe yourself against yourself.' + +Neither Estella nor her father had a great liking for the city of +Madrid, which indeed is at no time desirable. In the winter it is +cold, in the summer exceedingly hot, and during the changes of the +seasons of a treacherous weather difficult to surpass. The social +atmosphere was no more genial at the period with which we deal. For +it blew hot and cold, and treachery marked every change. + +Although the Queen Regent seemed to be nearing at last a successful +issue to her long and eventful struggle against Don Carlos, she had +enemies nearer home whose movements were equally dangerous to the +throne of the child queen. + +'I cannot afford to have an honest soldier so far removed from the +capital,' said Christina, who never laid aside the woman while +playing the Queen, as Vincente kissed her hand on presenting himself +at Court. The General smiled and shrugged his shoulders. + +'What did she say? What did she say?' the intriguers whispered +eagerly as the great soldier made his way towards the door, with the +haste of one who was no courtier. But they received no answer. + +The General had taken a suite of rooms in one of the hotels on the +Puerta del Sol, and hurried thither, well pleased do have escaped so +easily from a palace where self-seeking--the grim spirit that haunts +the abodes of royalty--had long reigned supreme. There was, the +servants told him, a visitor in the salon--one who had asked for the +General, and on learning of his absence had insisted on being +received by the senorita. + +'That sounds like Conyngham,' muttered the General, unbuckling his +sword--for he had but one weapon, and wore it in the presence of the +Queen and her enemies alike. + +It was indeed Conyngham, whose gay laugh Vincente heard before he +crossed the threshold of Estella's drawing-room. The Englishman was +in uniform, and stood with his back turned towards the door by which +the General entered. + +'It is Senor Conyngham,' said Estella at once, in a quiet voice, +'who has been wounded and six weeks in the hospital.' + +'Yes,' said Conyngham. 'But I am well again now! And I got my +appointment while I was still in the Sisters' care.' + +He laughed, though his face was pale and thin, and approached the +General with extended hand. The General had come to Madrid with the +intention of refusing to take that hand, and those who knew him said +that this soldier never swerved from his purpose. He looked for a +moment into Conyngham's eyes, and then shook hands with him. He did +not disguise the hesitation, which was apparent to both Estella and +the Englishman. + +'How were you wounded?' he asked. + +'I was stabbed in the back on the Toledo road, ten miles from here.' + +'Not by a robber--not for your money?' + +'No one ever hated me or cared for me on that account,' laughed +Conyngham. + +'Then who did it?' asked General Vincente, unbuttoning his gloves. + +Conyngham hesitated. + +'A man with whom I quarrelled on the road,' he made reply; but it +was no answer at all, as hearers and speaker alike recognised in a +flash of thought. + +'He left me for dead on the road, but a carter picked me up and +brought me to Madrid, to the hospital of the Hermanas, where I have +been ever since.' + +There were flowers on the table, and the General stooped over them +with a delicate appreciation of their scent. He was a great lover +of flowers, and indeed had a sense of the beautiful quite out of +keeping with the colour of his coat. + +'You must beware,' he said, 'now that you wear the Queen's uniform. +There is treachery abroad, I fear. Even I have had an anonymous +letter of warning.' + +'I should like to know who wrote it,' exclaimed Conyngham, with a +sudden flash of anger in his eyes. The General laughed pleasantly. + +'So should I,' he said. 'Merely as a matter of curiosity.' + +And he turned towards the door, which was opened at this moment by a +servant. + +'A gentleman wishing to see me--an Englishman, as it would appear,' +he continued, looking at the card. + +'By the way,' said Conyngham, as the General moved away, 'I am +instructed to inform you that I am attached to your staff as extra +aide-de-camp during your stay in Madrid.' + +The General nodded and left Estella and Conyngham alone in the +drawing-room. Conyngham turned on Estella. + +'So that I have a right to be near you,' he said, 'which is all that +I want.' + +He spoke lightly enough, as was his habit; but Estella, who was wise +in those matters that women know, preferred not to meet his eyes, +which were grave and deep. + +'Such things are quickly said,' Estella retorted. + +'Yes--and it takes a long time to prove them.' + +The General had left his gloves on the table. Estella took them up +and appeared to be interested in them. 'Perhaps a lifetime,' she +suggested. + +'I ask no less, senorita.' + +'Then you ask much.' + +'And I give all--though that is little enough.' + +They spoke slowly--not bandying words but exchanging thoughts. +Estella was grave. Conyngham's attitude was that which he ever +displayed to the world--namely, one of cheerful optimism, as behoved +a strong man who had not yet known fear. + +'Is it too little, senorita?' he asked. + +She was sitting at the table and would not look up--neither would +she answer his question. He was standing quite close to her-- +upright in his bright uniform, his hand on his sword--and all her +attention was fixed on the flowers which had called forth the +General's unspoken admiration. She touched them with fingers hardly +lighter than his. + +'Now that I think of it,' said Conyngham after a pause, 'what I give +is nothing.' + +Estella's face wore a queer little smile, as of a deeper knowledge. + +'Nothing at all,' continued the Englishman. 'For I have nothing to +give, and you know nothing of me.' + +'Three months ago,' answered Estella, 'we had never heard of you-- +and you had never seen me,' she added, with a little laugh. + +'I have seen nothing else since,' Conyngham replied deliberately; +'for I have gone about the world a blind man.' + +'In three months one cannot decide matters that affect a whole +lifetime,' said the girl. + +'This matter decided itself in three minutes, so far as I am +concerned, senorita, in the old palace at Ronda. It is a matter +that time is powerless to affect one way or the other.' + +'With some people; but you are hasty and impetuous. My father said +it of you--and he is never mistaken.' + +'Then you do not trust me, senorita?' + +Estella had turned away her face so that he could only see her +mantilla and the folds of her golden hair gleaming through the black +lace. She shrugged her shoulders. + +'It is not due to yourself, nor to all who know you in Spain, if I +do,' she said. + +'All who know me?' + +'Yes,' she continued; 'Father Concha, Senora Barenna, my father, and +others at Ronda.' + +'Ah! And what leads them to mistrust me?' + +'Your own actions,' replied Estella. + +And Conyngham was too simple-minded, too inexperienced in such +matters, to understand the ring of anxiety in her voice. + +'I do not much mind what the rest of the world thinks of me,' he +said; 'I have never owed anything to the world nor asked anything +from it. They are welcome to think what they like. But with you it +is different. Is it possible, senorita, to make you trust me?' + +Estella did not answer at once. After a pause she gave an +indifferent jerk of the head. + +'Perhaps,' she said. + +'If it is possible, I will do it.' + +'It is quite easy,' she answered, raising her head and looking out +of the window with an air that seemed to indicate that her interests +lay without and not in this room at all. + +'How can I do it?' + +She gave a short, hard laugh, which to experienced ears would have +betrayed her instantly. + +'By showing me the letter you wrote to Julia Barenna,' she said. + +'I cannot do that.' + +'No,' she said significantly. A woman fighting for her own +happiness is no sparing adversary. + +'Will nothing else than the sight of that letter satisfy you, +senorita?' + +Her profile was turned towards him--delicate and proud, with the +perfect chiselling of outline that only comes with a long descent, +and bespeaks the blood of gentle ancestors. For Estella Vincente +had in her veins blood that was counted noble in Spain--the land of +a bygone glory. + +'Nothing,' she answered. 'Though the question of my being satisfied +is hardly of importance. You asked me to trust you, and you make it +difficult by your actions. In return I ask a proof, that is all.' + +'Do you want to trust me?' + +He had come a little closer to her, and was grave enough now. + +'Why do you ask that?' she inquired in a low voice. + +'Do you want to trust me?' he asked, and it is to be supposed that +he was able to detect an infinitesimal acquiescent movement of her +head. + +'Then, if that letter is in existence, you shall have it,' he said. +'You say that my actions have borne evidence against me. I shall +trust to action and not to words to refute that evidence. But you +must give me time--will you do that?' + +'You always ask something.' + +'Yes, senorita, from you; but from no one else in the world.' + +He gave a sudden laugh and walked to the window, where he stood +looking at her. + +'I suppose,' he said, 'I shall be asking all my life from you. +Perhaps that is why we were created, senorita--I to ask, you to +give. Perhaps that is happiness, Estella.' + +She raised her eyes but did not meet his, looking past him through +the open window. The hotel was situated at the lower end of the +Puerta del Sol--the quiet end, and farthest removed from the hum of +the market and the busy sounds of traffic. These only came in the +form of a distant hum, like the continuous roar of surf upon an +unseen shore. Below the windows a passing waterseller plied his +trade, and his monotonous cry of 'Agua-a-a! Agua-a-a!' rose like a +wail--like the voice of one crying in that human wilderness where +solitude reigns as surely as in the desert. + +For a moment Estella glanced at Conyngham gravely, and his eyes were +no less serious. They were not the first, but only two out of many +millions, to wonder what happiness is and where it hides in this +busy world. + +They had not spoken or moved when the door was again opened by a +servant, who bowed towards Conyngham and then stood aside to allow +ingress to one who followed on his heels. This was a tall man, +white-haired, and white of face. Indeed, his cheeks had the dead +pallor of paper, and seemed to be drawn over the cheekbones at such +tension as gave to the skin a polish like that of fine marble. One +sees many such faces in London streets, and they usually indicate +suffering, either mental or physical. + +The stranger came forward with a perfect lack of embarrassment, +which proved him to be a man of the world. His bow to Estella +clearly indicated that his business lay with Conyngham. He was the +incarnation of the Continental ideal of the polished cold +Englishman, and had the air of a diplomate such as this country +sends to foreign Courts to praise or blame, to declare friendship or +war with the same calm suavity and imperturbable politeness. + +'I come from General Vincente,' he said to Conyngham, 'who will +follow in a moment, when he has despatched some business which +detains him. I have a letter to the General, and am, in fact, in +need of his assistance.' + +He broke off, turning to Estella, who was moving towards the door. + +'I was especially instructed,' he said quickly to her, 'to ask you +not to leave us. You were, I believe, at school with my nieces in +England, and when my business, which is of the briefest, is +concluded, I have messages to deliver to you from Mary and Amy +Mainwaring.' + +Estella smiled a little and resumed her seat. Then the stranger +turned to Conyngham. + +'The General told me,' he went on in his cold voice, without a gleam +of geniality or even of life in his eyes, 'that if I followed the +servant to the drawing-room I should find here an English aide-de- +camp who is fully in his confidence, and upon whose good-nature and +assistance I could rely.' + +'I am for the time General Vincente's aide-de-camp, and I am an +Englishman,' answered Conyngham. + +The stranger bowed. + +'I did not explain my business to General Vincente,' said he, 'who +asked me to wait until he came, and then tell the story to you both +at one time. In the meantime I was to introduce myself to you.' + +Conyngham waited in silence. + +'My name is Sir John Pleydell,' said the stranger quietly. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. IN HONOUR. + + + +'He makes no friend who never made a foe.' + +Conyngham remembered the name of Pleydell well enough, and glanced +sharply at Estella, recollecting that the General received the +'Times' from London. Before he had time to make an answer, and +indeed he had none ready, the General came into the room. + +'Ah!' said Vincente in his sociable manner, 'I see you know each +other already--so an introduction is superfluous. And now we will +have Sir John's story. Be seated, my dear sir. But first--a little +refreshment. It is a dusty day--a lemonade?' + +Sir John declined, his manner strikingly cold and reserved beside +the genial empressement of General Vincente. In truth the two men +seemed to belong to opposite poles--the one of cold and the other of +heat. Sir John had the chill air of one who had mixed among his +fellow men only to see their evil side; for the world is a cold +place to those that look on it with a chilling glance. General +Vincente, on the other hand, whose life had been passed in strife +and warfare, seemed ready to welcome all comers as friends and to +hold out the hand of good-fellowship to rich and poor alike. + +Conyngham shrugged his shoulders with a queer smile. Here was a +quandary requiring a quicker brain than his. He did not even +attempt to seek a solution to his difficulties, and the only thought +in his mind was a characteristic determination to face them +courageously. He drew forward a chair for Sir John Pleydell, his +heart stirred with that sense of exhilaration which comes to some in +moments of peril. + +'I will not detain you long,' began the new-comer, with an air +slightly suggestive of the law court, 'but there are certain details +which I am afraid I must inflict upon you, in order that you may +fully understand my actions.' + +The remark was addressed to General Vincente, although the speaker +appeared to be demanding Conyngham's attention in the first +instance. The learned gentlemen of the Bar thus often address the +jury through the ears of the judge. + +General Vincente had seated himself at the table and was drawing his +scented pocket-handkerchief across his moustache reflectively. He +was not, it was obvious, keenly interested, although desirous of +showing every politeness to the stranger. In truth, such Englishmen +as brought their affairs to Spain at this time were not as a rule +highly desirable persons or a credit to their country. Estella was +sitting near the window, rather behind her father, and Conyngham +stood by the fireplace, facing them all. + +'You perhaps know something of our English politics,' continued Sir +John Pleydell, and the General making a little gesture indicative of +a limited but sufficient knowledge, went on to say--'of the +Chartists more particularly?' + +The General bowed. Estella glanced at Conyngham, who was smiling. + +'One cannot call them a party, as I have heard them designated in +Spain,' said Sir John parenthetically. 'They are quite unworthy of +so distinguished a name. These Chartists consist of the most +ignorant people in the land--the rabble, in fact, headed by a few +scheming malcontents: professional agitators who are not above +picking the pockets of the poor. Many capitalists and landowners +have suffered wrong and loss at the hands of these disturbers of the +peace, none--' He paused and gave a sharp sigh which seemed to +catch him unawares, and almost suggested that the man had, after +all, or had at one time possessed, a heart. 'None more severely +than myself,' he concluded. + +The General's face instantly expressed the utmost concern. + +'My dear sir,' he murmured. + +'For many years,' continued Sir John hurriedly, as if resenting +anything like sympathy, as all good Britons do, 'the authorities +acted in an irresolute and foolish manner, not daring to put down +the disturbances with a firm hand. At length, however, a riot of a +more serious character at a town in Wales necessitated the +interference of the military. The ringleaders were arrested, and +for some time the authorities were in considerable doubt as to what +to do to them. I interested myself strongly in the matter--having +practised the law in my younger days--and was finally enabled to see +my object carried out. These men were arraigned, not as mere +brawlers and rioters, but under a charge of high treason--a much +more serious affair for them.' + +He broke off with a harsh laugh, which was only a matter of the +voice, for his marble face remained unchanged, and probably had not +at any time the power of expressing mirth. + +'The ringleaders of the Newport riots were sentenced to long terms +of imprisonment, which served my purpose excellently.' + +Sir John Pleydell spoke with that cynical frankness which seems +often to follow upon a few years devoted to practice at the Common +Law Bar, where men in truth spend their days in dissecting the +mental diseases of their fellow creatures, and learn to conclude +that a pure and healthy mind is possessed by none. He moved +slightly in his chair, and seemed to indicate that he had made his +first point. + +'I hope,' he said, addressing Conyngham directly, 'that I am not +fatiguing you?' + +'Not at all,' returned the younger Englishman coolly; 'I am much +interested.' + +The General was studying the texture of his pocket-handkerchief. +Estella's face had grown cold and set. Her eyes from time to time +turned towards Conyngham. Sir John Pleydell was not creating a good +impression. + +'I will now come to the more personal part of my story,' went on +that gifted speaker, 'and proceed to explain my reason for +inflicting it upon you.' + +He still spoke directly to Conyngham, who bowed his head in silence, +with the queer smile still hovering on his lips. Estella saw it and +drew a sharp breath. In the course of her short life, which had +almost been spent in the midst of warfare, she had seen men in +danger more than once, and perhaps recognised that smile. + +'I particularly beg your attention,' explained Sir John to +Conyngham, 'because I understand from General Vincente that you are +in reality attached to the staff of General Espartero, and it is to +him that I look for help.' + +Sir John paused again. He had established another point. One +almost expected to see him raise his hand to his shoulder to throw +back the silken gown. + +'Some months ago,' he went on, 'these Chartists attacked my house in +the North of England, and killed my son.' + +There was a short silence, and the General muttered a curt and +polite Spanish oath under his breath. But somehow the speaker had +failed to make that point, and he hurried on. + +'It was not, technically speaking, a murder; my boy, who had a fine +spirit, attacked the rioters, and a clever counsel might have got a +verdict for the scoundrel who actually struck the blow. I knew +this, and awaited events. I did not even take steps against the man +who killed my son--an only son and child. It was not, from a legal +point of view, worth while.' + +He laughed his unpleasant laugh again and presently went on. + +'Fortune, however, favoured me. The trouble grew worse, and the +Newport riots at last aroused the Government. The sentence upon the +ringleaders gave me my opportunity. It was worth while to hunt down +the murderer of my son when I could ensure him sixteen or twenty +years' penal servitude.' + +'Quite,' said the General; 'quite.' And he smiled. He seemed to +fail to realise that Sir John Pleydell was in deadly earnest, and +really harboured the implacable spirit of revenge with which he +cynically credited himself. + +'I traced my man to Gibraltar, and thence he appears to have come +north,' continued Sir John Pleydell. 'He has probably taken service +under Espartero--many of our English outlaws wear the Spanish +Queen's uniform. He is, of course, bearing an assumed name; but +surely it would be possible to trace him?' + +'Oh, yes,' answered Conyngham, 'I think you will be able to find +him.' + +Sir John's eyes had for a moment a gleam of life in them. + +'Ah!' he said, 'I am glad to hear you say that. For that is my +object in coming to this country; and although I have during the +course of my life had many objects of ambition or desire, none of +them has so entirely absorbed my attention as this one. Half a +dozen men have gone to penal servitude in order that I might succeed +in my purpose.' + +There was a cold deliberation in this statement which was more cruel +than cynicism, for it was sincere. Conyngham looked at Estella. +Her face had lost all colour, her eyes were burning--not with the +dull light of fear, for the blood that ran in her veins had no taint +of that in it--but with anger. She knew who it was that Sir John +Pleydell sought. She looked at Conyngham, and his smile of cool +intrepidity made her heart leap within her breast. This lover of +hers was at all events a brave man--and that which through all the +ages reaches the human heart most surely is courage. The coward has +no friends. + +Sir John Pleydell had paused, and was seeking something in his +pocket. General Vincente preserved his attitude of slightly bored +attention. + +'I have here,' went on the baronet, 'a list of the English officers +serving in the army of General Espartero at the time of my quitting +England. Perhaps you will, at your leisure, be kind enough to cast +your eye over it, and make a note of such men as are personally +unknown to you, and may therefore be bearing assumed names.' + +Conyngham took the paper, and, holding it in his hand, spoke without +moving from the mantelpiece against which he leant. + +'You have not yet made quite clear your object in coming to Spain,' +he said. 'There exists between Spain and England no extradition +treaty; and even if such were to come in force I believe that +persons guilty of political offences would be exempt from its +action. You propose to arraign this man for high treason--a +political offence according to the law of many countries.' + +'You speak like a lawyer,' said Sir John, with a laugh. + +'You have just informed us,' retorted Conyngham, 'that all the +English in the Spanish service are miscreants. None know the law so +intimately as those who have broken it.' + +'Ah!' laughed Sir John again, with a face of stone. 'There are +exceptions to all rules--and you, young sir, are an exception to +that which I laid down as regards our countrymen in Spain, unless my +experience of faces and knowledge of men play me very false. But +your contention is a just one. I am not in a position to seek the +aid of the Spanish authorities in this matter. I am fully aware of +the fact. You surely did not expect me to come to Spain with such a +weak case as that?' + +'No,' answered Conyngham slowly, 'I did not.' + +Sir John Pleydell raised his eyes and looked at his fellow +countryman with a dawning interest. The General also looked up, +from one face to the other. The atmosphere of the room seemed to +have undergone a sudden change, and to be dominated by the +personality of these two Englishmen. The one will, strong on the +surface, accustomed to assert itself and dominate, seemed suddenly +to have found itself faced by another as strong and yet hidden +behind an easy smile and indolent manner. + +'You are quite right,' he went on in his cold voice. 'I have a +better case than that, and one eminently suited to a country such as +Spain, where a long war has reduced law and order to a somewhat low +ebb. I at first thought of coming here to await my chance of +shooting this man--his name, by the way, is Frederick Conyngham; but +circumstances placed a better vengeance within my grasp--one that +will last longer.' + +He paused for a moment to reflect upon this long-drawn-out +expiation. + +'I propose to get my man home to England, and let him there stand +his trial. The idea is not my own; it has, in fact, been carried +out successfully before now. Once in England I shall make it my +business to see that he gets twenty years' penal servitude.' + +'And how do you propose to get him to England?' asked Conyngham. + +'Oh! that is simple enough. Only a matter of paying a couple of +such scoundrels as I understand abound in Spain at this moment--a +little bribing of officials, a heavy fee to some English ship- +captain. I propose, in short, to kidnap Frederick Conyngham. But I +do not ask you to help me in that. I only ask you to put me on his +track--to help me to find him, in fact. Will you do it?' + +'Certainly,' said Conyngham, coming forward with a card in his hand. +'You could not have come to a better man.' + +Sir John Pleydell read the card, and had himself in such control +that his face hardly changed. His teeth closed over his lower lip +for a second; then he rose. The perspiration stood out on his face- +-the grey of his eyes seemed to have faded to the colour of ashes. +He looked hard at Conyngham, and then, taking up his hat, went to +the door with curious, uneven steps. On the threshold he turned. + +'Your insolence,' he said breathlessly, 'is only exceeded by your-- +daring.' + +As the door closed behind him there came, from that part of the room +where General Vincente sat, a muffled click of steel, as if a sword +half out of its scabbard had been sent softly home again. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. IN MADRID. + + + +'Some keepeth silence knowing his time.' + +'Who travels slowly may arrive too late,' said the Padre Concha, +with a pessimistic shake of the head, as the carrier's cart in which +he had come from Toledo drew up in the Plazuela de la Cebada at +Madrid. The careful penury of many years had not, indeed, enabled +the old priest to travel by the quick diligences, which had often +passed him on the road with a cloud of dust and the rattle of six +horses. The great journey had been accomplished in the humbler +vehicles plying from town to town, that ran as often as not by night +in order to save the horses. + +The priest, like his fellow-travellers, was white with dust. Dust +covered his cloak so that its original hue of rusty black was quite +lost. Dust coated his face and nestled in the deep wrinkles of it. +His eyebrows were lost to sight, and his lashes were like those of a +miller. + +As he stood in the street the dust arose in whirling columns and +enveloped all who were abroad; for a gale was howling across the +tableland, which the Moors of old had named 'Majerit'--a draught of +wind. The conductor, who, like a good and jovial conductor, had +never refused an offer of refreshment on the road, was now muddled +with drink and the heat of the sun. He was, in fact, engaged in a +warm controversy with a passenger. So the Padre found his own +humble portmanteau, a thing of cardboard and canvas, and trudged up +the Calle de Toledo, bearing the bag in one hand and his cloak in +the other--a lean figure in the sunlight. + +Father Concha had been in Madrid before, though he rarely boasted of +it, or indeed of any of his travels. + +'The wise man does not hang his knowledge on a hook,' he was in the +habit of saying. + +That this knowledge was of that useful description which is usually +designated as knowing one's way about, soon became apparent; for the +dusty traveller passed with unerring steps through the narrower +streets that lie between the Calle de Toledo and the street of +Segovia. Here dwell the humbler citizens of Madrid, persons engaged +in the small commerce of the marketplace, for in the Plazuela de la +Cebada a hundred yards away is held the corn market, which, indeed, +renders the dust in this quarter particularly trying to the eyes. +Once or twice the priest was forced to stop at the corner of two +streets and there do battle with the wind. + +'But it is a hurricane,' he muttered; 'a hurricane.' + +With one hand he held his hat, with the other clung to his cloak and +portmanteau. + +'But it will blow the dust from my poor old capa,' he added, giving +the cloak an additional shake. + +He presently found himself in a street which, if narrower than its +neighbours, smelt less pestiferous. The open drain that ran down +the middle of it pursued its varied course with a quite respectable +speed. In the middle of the street Father Concha paused and looked +up, nodding as if to an old friend at the sight of a dingy piece of +palm bound to the ironwork of a balcony on the second floor. + +'The time to wash off the dust,' he muttered as he climbed the +narrow stairs, 'and then to work.' + +An hour later he was afoot again in a quarter of the city which was +less known to him--namely, in the Calle Preciados, where he sought a +venta more or less suspected by the police. The wind had risen, and +was now blowing with the force of a hurricane. It came from the +north-west with a chill whistle which bespoke its birthplace among +the peaks of the Gaudarramas. The streets were deserted; the oil +lamps swung on their chains at the street corners, casting weird +shadows that swept over the face of the houses with uncanny +irregularity. It was an evening for evil deeds, except that when +Nature is in an ill-humour human nature is mostly cowed, and those +who have bad consciences cannot rid their minds of thoughts of the +hereafter. + +The priest found the house he sought, despite the darkness of the +street and the absence of any from whom to elicit information. The +venta was on the ground-floor, and above it towered storey after +storey, built with the quaint fantasy of the middle ages, and +surmounted by a deep, overhanging gabled roof. The house seemed to +have two staircases of stone and two doors--one on each side of the +venta. There is a Spanish proverb which says that the rat which has +only one hole is soon caught. Perhaps the architect remembered +this, and had built his house to suit his tenants. It was on the +fifth floor of this tenement that Father Concha, instructed by +Heaven knows what priestly source of information, looked to meet +with Sebastian, the whilom bodyservant of the late Colonel Monreal +of Xeres. + +It was known among a certain section of the Royalists that this man +had papers and perchance some information of value to dispose of, +and more than one respectable, black-clad elbow had brushed the +greasy walls of this staircase. Sebastian, it was said, passed his +time in drinking and smoking. The boasted gaieties of Madrid had, +it would appear, diminished to this sordid level of dissipation. + +The man was, indeed, thus occupied when the old priest opened the +door of his room. + +'Yes,' he answered in a thick voice, 'I am Sebastian of Xeres, and +no other; the man who knows more of the Carlist plots than any other +in Madrid.' + +'Can you read?' + +'No.' + +'Then you know nothing,' said the Padre. 'You have, however, a +letter in a pink envelope which a friend of mine desires to possess. +It is a letter of no importance, of no political value--a love +letter, in fact.' + +'Ah, yes! Ah, yes! That may be, reverendo. But there are others +who want it--your love letter.' + +'I offer you, on the part of my friend, a hundred pesetas for this +letter.' + +The priest's wrinkled face wore a grim smile. It was so little--a +hundred pesetas, the price of a dinner for two persons at one of the +great restaurants on the Puerta del Sol. But to Father Concha the +sum represented five hundred cups of black coffee denied to himself +in the evening at the cafe--five hundred packets of cigarettes, so- +called of Havana, unsmoked--two new cassocks in the course of twenty +years--a hundred little gastronomic delights sternly resisted season +after season. + +'Not enough, your hundred pesetas, reverendo, not enough,' laughed +the man. And Concha, who could drive as keen a bargain as any +market-woman of Ronda, knew by the manner of saying it that +Sebastian only spoke the truth when he said that he had other +offers. + +'See, reverendo,' the man went on, leaning across the table and +banging a dirty fist upon it, 'come to-night at ten o'clock. There +are others coming at the same hour to buy my letter in the pink +envelope. We will have an auction, a little auction, and the letter +goes to the highest bidder. But what does your reverence want with +a love letter, eh?' + +'I will come,' said the Padre, and, turning, he went home to count +his money once more. + +There are many living still who remember the great gale of wind +which was now raging, and through which Father Concha struggled back +to the Calle Preciados as the city clocks struck ten. Old men and +women still tell how the theatres were deserted that night and the +great cafes wrapt in darkness. For none dare venture abroad amid +such whirl and confusion. Concha, however, with that lean strength +that comes from a life of abstemiousness and low-living, crept along +in the shadow of the houses and reached his destination unhurt. The +tall house in the alley leading from the Calle Preciados to the +Plazuela Santa Maria was dark, as indeed were most of the streets of +Madrid this night. A small moon struggled, however, through the +riven clouds at times, and cast streaks of light down the narrow +streets. Concha caught sight of the form of a man in the alley +before him. The priest carried no weapon, but he did not pause. At +this moment a gleam of light aided him. + +'Senor Conyngham!' he said. 'What brings you here?' + +And the Englishman turned sharply on his heel. + +'Is that you--Father Concha, of Ronda?' he asked. + +'No other, my son.' + +Standing in the doorway Conyngham held out his hand with that air of +good-fellowship which he had not yet lost amid the more formal +Spaniards. + +'Hardly the night for respectable elderly gentlemen of your cloth to +be in the streets,' he said; whereat Concha, who had a keen +appreciation of such small pleasantries, laughed grimly. + +'And I have not even the excuse of my cloth. I am abroad on worldly +business, and not even my own. I will be honest with you, Senor +Conyngham. I am here to buy that malediction of a letter in a pink +envelope. You remember--in the garden at Ronda, eh?' + +'Yes, I remember; and why do you want that letter?' + +'For the sake of Julia Barenna.' + +'Ah! I want it for the sake of Estella Vincente.' + +Concha laughed shortly. + +'Yes,' he said. 'It is only up to the age of twenty-five that men +imagine themselves to be the rulers of the world. But we need not +bid against each other, my son. Perhaps a sight of the letter +before I destroy it would satisfy the senorita.' + +'No, we need not bid against each other,' began Conyngham; but the +priest dragged him back into the doorway with a quick whisper of +'Silence!' + +Someone was coming down the other stairway of the tall house, with +slow and cautious steps. Conyngham and his companion drew back to +the foot of the stairs and waited. It became evident that he who +descended the steps did so without a light. At the door he seemed +to stop, probably making sure that the narrow alley was deserted. A +moment later he hurried past the door where the two men stood. The +moon was almost clear, and by its light both the watchers recognised +Larralde in a flash of thought. The next instant Esteban Larralde +was running for his life with Frederick Conyngham on his heels. + +The lamp at the corner of the Calle Preciados had been shattered +against the wall by a gust of wind, and both men clattered through a +slough of broken glass. Down the whole length of the Preciados but +one lamp was left alight, and the narrow street was littered with +tiles and fallen bricks, for many chimneys had been blown down, and +more than one shutter lay in the roadway, torn from its hinges by +the hurricane. It was at the risk of life that any ventured abroad +at this hour and amid the whirl of falling masonry. Larralde and +Conyngham had the Calle Preciados to themselves--and Larralde cursed +his spurs, which rang out at each footfall, and betrayed his +whereabouts. + +A dozen times the Spaniard fell, but before his pursuer could reach +him, the same obstacle threw Conyngham to the ground. A dozen times +some falling object crashed to earth on the Spaniard's heels, and +the Englishman leapt aside to escape the rebound. Larralde was +fleet of foot despite his meagre limbs, and leapt over such +obstacles as he could perceive, with the agility of a monkey. He +darted into the lighted doorway--the entrance to the palatial +mansion of an upstart politician. The large doors were thrown open, +and the hall-porter stood in full livery awaiting the master's +carriage. Larralde was already in the patio, and Conyngham ran +through the marble-paved entrance hall, before the porter realised +what was taking place. There was no second exit as the fugitive had +hoped--so it was round the patio and out again into the dark street, +leaving the hall-porter dumfoundered. + +Larralde turned sharply to the right as soon as he gained the Calle +Preciados. It was a mere alley running the whole way round a +church--and here again was solitude, but not silence, for the wind +roared among the chimneys overhead as it roars through a ship's +rigging at sea. The Calle Preciados again! and a momentary +confusion among the tables of a cafe that stood upon the pavement, +amid upturned chairs and a fallen, flapping awning. The pace was +less killing now, but Larralde still held his own--one hand clutched +over the precious letter regained at last--and Conyngham was +conscious of a sharp pain where the Spaniard's knife had touched his +lung. + +Larralde ran mechanically with open mouth and staring eyes. He +never doubted that death was at his heels, should he fail to +distance the pursuer. For he had recognised Conyngham in the patio +of the great house, and as he ran the vague wonder filled his mind +whether the Englishman carried a knife. What manner of death would +it be if that long arm reached him? Esteban Larralde was afraid. +His own life--Julia's life--the lives of a whole Carlist section +were at stake. The history of Spain, perhaps of Europe, depended on +the swiftness of his foot. + +The little crescent moon was shining clearly now between the long- +drawn rifts of the rushing clouds. Larralde turned to the right +again, up a narrow street which seemed to promise a friendly +darkness. The ascent was steep, and the Spaniard gasped for breath +as he ran--his legs were becoming numb. He had never been in this +street before, and knew not whither it led. But it was at all +events dark and deserted. Suddenly he fell upon a heap of bricks +and rubbish, a whole stack of chimneys. He could smell the soot. +Conyngham was upon him, touched him, but failed to get a grip. +Larralde was afoot in an instant, and fell heavily down the far side +of the barricade. He gained a few yards again, and, before +Conyngham's eyes, was suddenly swallowed up in a black mass of +falling masonry. It was more than a chimney this time; nothing less +than a whole house carried bodily to the ground by the fall of the +steeple of the church of Santa Maria del Monte. Conyngham stopped +dead, and threw his arms over his head. The crash was terrific, +deafening--and for a few moments the Englishman was stunned. He +opened his eyes and closed them again, for the dust and powdered +mortar whirled round him like smoke. Almost blinded, he crept back +by the way he had come, and the street was already full of people. +In the Calle Preciados he sat down on a door-step, and there waited +until he had gained mastery over his limbs, which shook still. +Presently he made his way back to the house where he had left +Concha. + +The man Sebastian had, a week earlier, seen and recognised Conyngham +as the bearer of the letter addressed to Colonel Monreal, and left +at that officer's lodging in Xeres at the moment of his death in the +streets. Sebastian approached Conyngham, and informed him that he +had in his possession sundry papers belonging to the late Colonel +Monreal, which might be of value to a Royalist. This was, +therefore, not the first time that Conyngham had climbed the narrow +stairs of the tall house with two doors. + +He found Concha busying himself by the bedside, where Sebastian lay +in the unconsciousness of deep drink. + +'He has probably been drugged,' said the priest. 'Or, he may be +dying. What is more important to us is, that the letter is not +here. I have searched. Larralde escaped you?' + +'Yes; and of course has the letter.' + +'Of course, amigo.' + +The priest looked at the prostrate man with a face of profound +contempt, and, shrugging his shoulders, went towards the door. + +'Come,' he said, 'I must return to Toledo and Julia. It is thither +that this Larralde always returns, and she, poor woman, believes in +him. Ah, my friend'--he paused and shook his long finger at +Conyngham. 'When a woman believes in a man she makes him or mars +him; there is no medium.' + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. IN TOLEDO. + + + +'Meddle not with many matters; for if thou meddle much thou shalt +not be innocent.' + +The Cafe of the Ambassadeurs in the Calle de la Montera was at this +time the fashionable resort of visitors to the city of Madrid. Its +tone was neither political nor urban, but savoured rather of the +cosmopolitan. The waiters at the first-class hotels recommended the +Cafe of the Ambassadeurs, and stepped round to the manager's office +at the time of the New Year to mention the fact. + +Sir John Pleydell had been rather nonplussed by his encounter with +Conyngham, and, being a man of the world as well as a lawyer, sat +down, as it were, to think. He had come to Spain in the first heat +of a great revenge, and such men as he take, like the greater +volcanoes, a long time to cool down. He had been prepossessed in +the favour of the man who subsequently owned to being Frederick +Conyngham. And the very manner in which this admission was made +redounded in some degree to the honour of the young Englishman. +Here, at least, was one who had no fear, and fearlessness appeals to +the heart of every Briton from the peer to the navvy. + +Sir John took a certain cold interest in his surroundings, and in +due course was recommended to spend an evening at the Cafe des +Ambassadeurs, as it styled itself, for the habit of preferring +French to Spanish designations for places of refreshment had come in +since the great revolution. Sir John went, therefore, to the cafe, +and with characteristic scorn of elemental disturbance chose to +resort thither on the evening of the great gale. The few other +occupants of the gorgeous room eyed his half-bottle of claret with a +grave and decorous wonder, but made no attempt to converse with this +chill-looking Englishman. At length, about ten o'clock or a few +minutes later, entered one who bowed to Sir John with an air full of +affable promise. This was Larralde, who called a waiter and bade +him fetch a coat-brush. + +'Would you believe it, sir?' he said, addressing Sir John in broken +English, 'but I have just escaped a terrible death.' + +He shrugged his shoulders, spread out his hands, and laughed good- +humouredly, after the manner of one who has no foes. + +'The fall of a chimney--so--within a metre of my shoulder.' He +threw back his cloak with a graceful swing of the arm and handed it +to the waiter. Then he drew forward a chair to the table occupied +by Sir John, who sipped his claret and bowed coldly. + +'You must not think that Madrid is always like this,' said Larralde. +'But perhaps you know the city--' + +'No--this is my first visit.' + +Larralde turned aside to give his order to the waiter. His +movements were always picturesque, and in the presence of Englishmen +he had a habit of accentuating those characteristics of speech and +manner which are held by our countrymen to be native to the +Peninsula. There is nothing so disarming as conventionality--and +nothing less suspicious. Larralde seemed ever to be a typical +Spaniard--indolently polite, gravely indifferent--a cigarette- +smoking nonentity. + +They talked of topics of the day, and chiefly of that great event, +the hurricane, which was still raging. Larralde, whose habit it was +to turn his neighbour to account--a seed of greatness this!--had +almost concluded that the Englishman was useless when the +conversation turned, as it was almost bound to turn between these +two, upon Conyngham. + +'There are but few of your countrymen in Madrid at the moment,' +Larralde had said. + +'I know but one,' was the guarded reply. + +'And I also,' said Larralde, flicking the ash from his cigarette. +'A young fellow who has made himself somewhat notorious in the +Royalist cause--a cause in which I admit I have no sympathy. His +name is Conyngham.' + +Then a silence fell upon the two men, and over raised glasses they +glanced surreptitiously at each other. + +'I know him,' said Sir John at length, and the tone of his voice +made Larralde glance up with a sudden gleam in his eyes. There thus +sprang into existence between them the closest of all bonds--a +common foe. + +'The man has done me more than one ill-turn,' said Larralde after a +pause, and he drummed on the table with his cigarette-stained +fingers. + +Sir John, looking at him, coldly gauged the Spaniard with the deadly +skill of his calling. He noted that Larralde was poor and +ambitious--qualities that often raise the devil in a human heart +when fate brings them there together. He was not deceived by the +picturesque manner of Julia's lover, but knew exactly how much was +assumed of that air of simple vanity to which Larralde usually +treated strangers. He probably gauged at one glance the depth of +the man's power for good or ill, his sincerity, his possible +usefulness. In the hands of Sir John Pleydell, Larralde was the +merest tool. + +They sat until long after midnight, and before they parted Sir John +Pleydell handed to his companion a roll of notes, which he counted +carefully and Larralde accepted with a grand air of condescension +and indifference. + +'You know my address,' said Sir John, with a slight suggestion of +masterfulness which had not been noticeable before the money changed +hands. 'I shall remain at the same hotel.' + +Larralde nodded his head. + +'I shall remember it,' he said. 'And now I go to take a few hours' +rest. I have had a hard day, and am as tired as a shepherd's dog.' + +And indeed the day had been busy enough. Senor Larralde hummed an +air between his teeth as he struggled against the fierce wind. + +Before dawn the gale subsided, and daylight broke with a clear, calm +freshness over the city, where sleep had been almost unknown during +the night. The sun had not yet risen when Larralde took the road on +his poor, thin black horse. He rode through the streets, still +littered with the debris of fallen chimneys, slates, and shutters, +with his head up and his mind so full of the great schemes which +gave him no rest, that he never saw Concepcion Vara going to market +with a basket on his arm and a cigarette, unlighted, between his +lips. Concepcion turned and watched the horseman, shrugged his +shoulders, and quietly followed until the streets were left behind +and there could no longer be any doubt that Larralde was bound for +Toledo. + +Thither, indeed, he journeyed throughout the day with a +leisureliness begotten of the desire to enter the ancient city after +nightfall only. Toledo was at this time the smouldering hotbed of +those political intrigues which some years later burst into flame, +and resulted finally in the expulsion of the Bourbons from the +throne of Spain. Larralde was sufficiently dangerous to require +watching, and, like many of his kind, considered himself of a +greater importance than his enemies were pleased to attach to him. +The city of Toledo is, as many know, almost surrounded by the rapid +Tagus, and entrance to its narrow confine is only to be gained by +two gates. To pass either of these barriers in open day would be to +court a publicity singularly undesirable at this time, for Esteban +Larralde was slipping down the social slope, which gradual progress +is the hardest to arrest. If one is mounting there are plenty to +help him--those from above seeking to make unto themselves friends +of the mammon of unrighteousness; those from below hoping to tread +in the footsteps he may leave. Each step, however, of the upward +progress has to be gained at the expense of another. But on the +descent there are none to stay and many to push behind, while those +in front make room readily enough. Larralde had for the first time +accepted a direct monetary reward for his services. That this had +been offered and accepted in a polite Spanish manner as an advance +of expenses to be incurred was, of course, only natural under the +circumstances, but the fact remained that Esteban Larralde was no +longer a picturesque conspirator, serving a failing cause with that +devotion which can only be repaid later by high honours, and a post +carrying with it emoluments of proportionate value. He had, in +fact, been paid in advance; which is the surest sign of distrust +upon one side or the other. + +The Barennas had been established at their house in Toledo some +weeks, and, for Julia, life had been dull enough. She had hastened +northward, knowing well that her lover's intrigues must necessarily +bring him to the neighbourhood of the capital--perhaps to Toledo +itself. Larralde had, however, hitherto failed to come near her, +and the news of the day reported an increasing depression in the +ranks of the Carlists. Indeed, that cause seemed now at such a low +ebb that the franker mercenaries were daily drifting away to more +promising scenes of warfare, while some cynically accepted +commissions in the army of Espartero. + +'I always said that Don Carlos would fail if he employed such men-- +as--well, as he does,' Madame Barenna took more than one opportunity +of observing at this time, and her emphatic fan rapped the personal +application home. + +She had just made this remark for perhaps the sixth time one evening +when the door of the patio where she and Julia sat was thrown open, +and Larralde--the person indirectly referred to--came towards the +ladies. He was not afraid of Madame Barenna, and his tired face +lightened visibly at the sight of Julia. Concha was right. +According to his lights Larralde loved Julia. She, who knew every +expression, noted the look in his face, and her heart leapt within +her breast. She had long secretly rejoiced over the failure of the +Carlist cause. Such, messieurs, is the ambition of a woman for the +man she really loves. + +Senora Barenna rose and held out her hand with a beaming smile. She +was rather bored that evening, and it was pleasant to imagine +herself in the midst of great political intrigues. + +'We were wondering if you would come,' she said. + +'I am here--there--everywhere--but I always come back to the Casa +Barenna,' he said gallantly. + +'You look tired,' said Julia quietly. 'Where are you from?' + +'At the moment I am from Madrid. The city has been wrecked by a +tornado--I myself almost perished.' + +He paused, shrugged his shoulders. + +'What will you?' he added carelessly. 'What is life--a single life- +-in Spain to-day?' + +Julia winced. It is marvellous how an intelligent woman may blind +herself into absolute belief in one man. Senora Barenna shuddered. + +'Blessed Heaven!' she whispered. 'Why does not someone do +something?' + +'One does one's best,' answered Larralde, with his hand at his +moustache. + +'But yes!' said Madame eagerly. She had a shrewd common sense, as +many apparently foolish women have, and probably put the right value +on Senor Larralde's endeavours. Father Concha and the General were, +however, far away, and all women are time-servers. + +Larralde spoke of general news, and when he at length proposed to +Julia that they should take a 'paseo' in the garden the elder lady +made no objection. For some moments Julia was quite happy. She had +schooled herself into a sort of contentment in the hope that her +turn would come when ambition failed. Perhaps this moment had +arrived. At all events, Larralde acquitted himself well, and seemed +sincere enough in his joy at seeing her again. + +'Do you love me?' he asked suddenly. + +Julia gave a little laugh. Heaven has been opened by such a laugh +ere now, and men have seen for a moment the brightness of it. + +'Enough to leave Spain for ever and live in another country?' + +'Yes.' + +'Enough to risk something now for my sake?' + +'Enough to risk everything,' she answered. + +'I have tried to gain a great position for you,' went on Larralde, +'and fortune has been against me. I have failed. The Carlist cause +is dead, Julia. Our chief has failed us--that is the truth of it. +We set him up as a king, but unless we hold him upright he falls. +He is a man of straw. We are making one last effort, as you know, +but it is a dangerous one, and we have had misfortunes. This +pestilential Englishman! No one may say how much he knows. He has +had the letter too long in his possession for our safety. But I +have outwitted him this time.' + +Larralde paused, and drew from his pocket the letter in the pink +envelope--somewhat soiled by its passage through the hands of +Colonel Monreal's servant. + +'It requires two more signatures and will then be complete,' said +the upholder of Don Carlos. 'We shall then make our "coup," but we +cannot move while Conyngham remains in Spain. It would never do for +me to--well, to get shot at this moment.' + +Julia breathed hard. + +'And that is what Mr. Conyngham is endeavouring to bring about. In +the first place he wants this letter to show to Estella Vincente-- +some foolish romance. In the second place he hates me, and seeks +promotion in the Royalist ranks. These Englishmen are unscrupulous. +He tried to take my life--only last night. I bear him no ill- +feeling. A la guerre comme a la guerre. My only intention is to +get him quietly out of Spain. It can be managed easily enough. +Will you help me--to save my own life?' + +'Yes,' answered Julia. + +'I want you to write a letter to Conyngham saying that you are tired +of political intrigue.' + +'Heaven knows that would be true enough,' put in Julia. + +'And that you will give him the letter he desires on the condition +that he promises to show it to no one but Estella Vincente and +return it to you. That you will also swear that it is the identical +letter that he handed to you in the General's garden at Ronda. If +Conyngham agrees, he must meet you at the back of the Church of +Santo Tome in the Calle Pedro Martir here, in Toledo, next Monday +evening at seven o'clock. Will you write this letter, Julia?' + +'And Estella Vincente?' inquired Julia. + +'She will forget him in a week,' laughed Larralde. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. CONCEPCION TAKES THE ROAD. + + + +'Who knows? the man is proven by the hour.' + +After the great storm came a calm almost as startling. It seemed +indeed as if Nature stood abashed and silent before the results of +her sudden rage. Day after day the sun glared down from a cloudless +sky, and all Castile was burnt brown as a desert. In the streets of +Madrid there arose a hot dust and the subtle odour of warm earth +that rarely meets the nostrils in England. It savoured of India and +other sun-steeped lands where water is too precious to throw upon +the roads. + +Those who could, remained indoors or in their shady patios until the +heat of the day was past; and such as worked in the open lay +unchallenged in the shade from midday till three o'clock. During +those days military operations were almost suspended, although the +heads of departments were busy enough in their offices. The +confusion of war, it seemed, was past, and the sore-needed peace was +immediately turned to good account. The army of the Queen Regent +was indeed in an almost wrecked condition, and among the field +officers jealousy and backbiting, which had smouldered through the +war-time, broke out openly. General Vincente was rarely at home, +and Estella passed this time in quiet seclusion. Coming as she did +from Andalusia, she was accustomed to an even greater heat, and knew +how to avoid the discomfort of it. + +She was sitting one afternoon, with open windows and closed +jalousies, during the time of the siesta, when the servant announced +Father Concha. + +The old priest came into the room wiping his brow with simple ill +manners. + +'You have been hurrying and have no regard for the sun,' said +Estella. + +'You need not find shelter for an old ox,' replied Concha, seating +himself. 'It is the young ones that expose themselves +unnecessarily.' + +Estella glanced at him sharply but said nothing. He sat, +handkerchief in hand, and stared at a shaft of sunlight that lay +across the floor from a gap in the jalousies. From the street under +the windows came the distant sounds of traffic and the cries of the +vendors of water, fruit, and newspapers. + +Father Concha looked puzzled, and seemed to be seeking his way out +of a difficulty. Estella sat back in her chair, half hidden by her +slow-waving, black fan. There is no pride so difficult as that +which is unconscious of its own existence, no heart so hard to touch +as that which has thrown its stake and asks neither sympathy nor +admiration from the outside world. Concha glanced at Estella and +wondered if he had been mistaken. There was in the old man's heart, +as indeed there is in nearly all human hearts, a thwarted instinct. +How many are there with maternal instincts who have no children; how +many a poet has been lost by the crying need of hungry mouths! It +was a thwarted instinct that made the old priest busy himself with +the affairs of other people, and always of young people. + +'I came hoping to see your father,' he said at length, blandly +untruthful. 'I have just seen Conyngham, in whom we are all +interested, I think. His lack of caution is singular. I have been +trying to persuade him not to do something most rash and imprudent. +You remember the incident in your garden at Ronda--a letter which he +gave to Julia?' + +'Yes,' answered Estella quietly, 'I remember.' + +'For some reason which he did not explain I understand that he is +desirous of regaining possession of that letter, and now Julia, +writing from Toledo, tells him that she will give it to him if he +will go there and fetch it. The Toledo road, as you will remember, +is hardly to be recommended to Mr. Conyngham.' + +'But Julia wishes him no harm,' said Estella. + +'My child, rarely trust a political man and never a political woman. +If Julia wished him to have the letter she could have sent it to him +by post. But Conyngham, who is all eagerness, must needs refuse to +listen to any argument, and starts this afternoon for Toledo--alone. +He has not even his servant Concepcion Vara, who has suddenly +disappeared, and a woman who claims to be the scoundrel's wife from +Algeciras has been making inquiries at Conyngham's lodging. A hen's +eyes are where her eggs lie. I offered to go to Toledo with +Conyngham, but he laughed at me for a useless old priest, and said +that the saddle would gall me.' + +He paused, looking at her beneath his shaggy brows, knowing, as he +had always known, that this was a woman beyond his reach--cleverer, +braver, of a higher mind than her sisters--one to whom he might +perchance tender some small assistance, but nothing better. For +women are wiser in their generation than men, and usually know +better what is for their own happiness. Estella returned his glance +with steady eyes. + +'He has gone,' said Concha. 'I have not been sent to tell you that +he is going.' + +'I did not think that you had,' she answered. + +'Conyngham has enemies in this country,' continued the priest, 'and +despises them--a mistake to which his countrymen are singularly +liable. He has gone off on this foolish quest without preparation +or precaution. Toledo is, as you know, a hotbed of intrigue and +dissatisfaction. All the malcontents in Spain congregate there, and +Conyngham would do well to avoid their company. Who lies down with +dogs gets up with fleas.' + +He paused, tapping his snuffbox, and at that moment the door opened +to admit General Vincente. + +'Oh! the Padre!' cried the cheerful soldier. 'But what a sun, eh? +It is cool here, however, and Estella's room is always a quiet one.' + +He touched her cheek affectionately, and drew forward a low chair +wherein he sat, carefully disposing of the sword that always seemed +too large for him. + +'And what news has the Padre?' he asked, daintily touching his brow +with his pocket-handkerchief. + +'Bad,' growled Concha, and then told his tale over again in a +briefer, blunter manner. 'It all arises,' he concluded, 'from my +pestilential habit of interfering in the affairs of other people.' + +'No,' said General Vincente; 'it arises from Conyngham's +pestilential habit of acquiring friends wherever he goes.' + +The door was opened again, and a servant entered. + +'Excellency,' he said, 'a man called Concepcion Vara, who desires a +moment.' + +'What did I tell you?' said the General to Concha. 'Another of +Conyngham's friends. Spain is full of them. Let Concepcion Vara +come to this room.' + +The servant looked slightly surprised, and retired. If, however, +this manner of reception was unusual, Concepcion was too finished a +man of the world to betray either surprise or embarrassment. By +good fortune he happened to be wearing a coat. His flowing +unstarched shirt was as usual spotless, he wore a flower in the +ribbon of the hat carried jauntily in his hand, and about his person +in the form of handkerchief and faja were those touches of bright +colour by means of which he so irresistibly attracted the eye of the +fair. + +'Excellency,' he murmured, bowing on the threshold; 'Reverendo,' +with one step forward and a respectful semi-religious inclination of +the head towards Concha; 'Senorita!' The ceremony here concluded +with a profound obeisance to Estella full of gallantry and grave +admiration. Then he stood upright, and indicated by a pleasant +smile that no one need feel embarrassed, that in fact this meeting +was most opportune. + +'A matter of urgency, Excellency,' he said confidentially to +Vincente. 'I have reason to suspect that one of my friends--in +fact, the Senor Conyngham, with whom I am at the moment in service-- +happens to be in danger.' + +'Ah! what makes you suspect that, my friend?' + +Concepcion waved his hand lightly, as if indicating that the news +had been brought to him by the birds of the air. + +'When one goes into the cafe,' he said, 'one is not always so +particular--one associates with those who happen to be there-- +muleteers, diligencia-drivers, bull-fighters, all and sundry, even +contrabandistas.' + +He made this last admission with a face full of pious toleration, +and Father Concha laughed grimly. + +'That is true, my friend,' said the General, hastening to cover the +priest's little lapse of good manners, 'and from these gentlemen-- +honest enough in their way, no doubt--you have learnt--?' + +'That the Senor Conyngham has enemies in Spain.' + +'So I understand; but he has also friends?' + +'He has one,' said Vara, taking up a fine, picturesque attitude, +with his right hand at his waist where the deadly knife was +concealed in the rolls of his faja. + +'Then he is fortunate,' said the General, with his most winning +smile; 'why do you come to me, my friend.' + +'I require two men,' answered Concepcion airily, 'that is all.' + +'Ah! What sort of men. Guardias Civiles?' + +'The Holy Saints forbid! Honest soldiers, if it please your +Excellency. The Guardia Civil! See you, Excellency.' + +He paused, shaking his outspread hand from side to side, palm +downwards, fingers apart, as if describing a low level of humanity. + +'A brutal set of men,' he continued; 'with the finger ever on the +trigger and the rifle ever loaded. Pam! and a life is taken--many +of my friends--at least, many persons I have met--in the cafe!' + +'It is better to give him his two men,' put in Father Concha, in his +atrocious English, speaking to the General. 'The man is honest in +his love of Conyngham, if in nothing else.' + +'And if I accord you these two men, my friend,' said the General, +from whose face Estella's eyes had never moved, 'will you undertake +that Mr. Conyngham comes to no harm?' + +'I will arrange it,' replied Concepcion, with an easy shrug of the +shoulders. 'I will arrange it, never fear.' + +'You shall have two men,' said General Vincente, drawing a writing- +case towards himself and proceeding to write the necessary order. +'Men who are known to me personally. You can rely upon them at all +times.' + +'Since they are friends of his Excellency's,' interrupted Concepcion +with much condescension, 'that suffices.' + +'He will require money,' said Estella in English--her eyes bright +and her cheeks flushed. For she came of a fighting race, and her +repose of manner, the dignity which sat rather strangely on her slim +young shoulders, were only signs of that self-control which had been +handed down to her through the ages. + +The General nodded as he wrote. + +'Take that to headquarters,' he said, handing the papers to +Concepcion, 'and in less than half an hour your men will be ready. +Mr. Conyngham is a friend of mine, as you know, and any expenses +incurred on his behalf will be defrayed by myself--' + +Concepcion held up his hand. + +'It is unnecessary, Excellency,' he said. 'At present Mr. Conyngham +has funds. Only yesterday he gave me money. He liquidated my +little account. It has always been a jest between us--that little +account.' + +He laughed pleasantly, and moved towards the door. + +'Vara,' said Father Concha. + +'Yes, reverendo.' + +'If I meet your wife in Madrid, what shall I say to her?' + +Concepcion turned and looked into the smiling face of the old +priest. + +'In Madrid, reverendo? How can you think of such a thing? My wife +lives in Algeciras, and at times, see you--' he stopped, casting his +eyes up to the ceiling and fetching an exaggerated sigh, 'at times +my heart aches. But now I must get to the saddle. What a thing is +Duty, reverendo! Duty! God be with your Excellencies.' + +And he hurried out of the room. + +'If you would make a thief honest, trust him,' said Concha, when the +door was closed. + +In less than an hour Concepcion was on the road accompanied by two +troopers, who were ready enough to travel in company with a man of +his reputation. For in Spain, if one cannot be a bull-fighter it is +good to be a smuggler. At sunset the great heat culminated in a +thunderstorm, which drew a veil of heavy cloud across the sky, and +night fell before its time. + +The horsemen had covered two-thirds of their journey when he whom +they followed came in sight of the lights of Toledo, set upon a rock +like the jewels in a lady's ring, and almost surrounded by the swift +Tagus. Conyngham's horse was tired, and stumbled more than once on +the hill by which the traveller descends to the great bridge and the +gate that Wamba built thirteen hundred years ago. + +Through this gate he passed into the city, which was a city of the +dead, with its hundred ruined churches, its empty palaces and silent +streets. Ichabod is written large over all these tokens of a bygone +glory; where the Jews flying from Jerusalem first set foot; where +the Moor reigned unmolested for nearly four hundred years; where the +Goth and the Roman and the great Spaniard of the middle ages have +trod on each other's heels. Truly these worn stones have seen the +greatness of the greatest nations of the world. + +A single lamp hung slowly swinging in the arch of Wamba's Gate, and +the streets were but ill lighted with an oil lantern at an +occasional corner. Conyngham had been in Toledo before, and knew +his way to the inn under the shadow of the great Alcazar, now burnt +and ruined. Here he left his horse; for the streets of Toledo are +so narrow and tortuous, so ill-paved and steep, that wheel traffic +is almost unknown, while a horse can with difficulty keep his feet +on the rounded cobble stones. In this city men go about their +business on foot, which makes the streets as silent as the deserted +houses. + +Julia had selected a spot which was easy enough to find, and +Conyngham, having supped, made his way thither without asking for +directions. + +'It is at all events worth trying,' he said to himself, 'and she can +scarcely have forgotten that I saved her life on the Garonne as well +as at Ronda.' + +But there is often in a woman's life one man who can make her forget +all. The streets were deserted, for it was a cold night, and the +cafes were carefully closed against the damp air. No one stirred in +the Calle Pedro Martir, and Conyngham peered into the shadow of the +high wall of the Church of San Tome in vain. Then he heard the soft +tread of muffled feet, and turning on his heel realised Julia's +treachery in a flash of thought. He charged to meet the charge of +his assailants. Two of them went down like felled trees, but there +were others--four others--who fell on him silently like hounds upon +a fox, and in a few moments all was quiet again in the Calle Pedro +Martir. + + + +CHAPTER XX. ON THE TALAVERA ROAD. + + + +'Les barrieres servent a indiquer ou il faut passer.' + +An hour's ride to the west of Toledo, on the road to Torrijos and +Talavera, and in the immediate neighbourhood of the village of +Galvez, two men sat in the shadow of a great rock, and played cards. +They played quietly and without vociferation, illustrating the +advantages of a minute coinage. They had gambled with varying +fortune since the hour of the siesta, and a sprinkling of cigarette +ends on the bare rocks around them testified to the indulgence in a +kindred vice. + +The elder of the two men glanced from time to time over his +shoulder, and down towards the dusty high road which lay across the +arid plain beneath them like a tape. The country here is barren and +stone-ridden, but to the west, where Torrijos gleamed whitely on the +plain, the earth was green with lush corn and heavy blades of maize, +now springing into ear. Where the two soldiers sat the herbage was +scant and of an aromatic scent, as it mostly is in hot countries and +in rocky places. That these men belonged to a mounted branch of the +service was evident from their equipment, and notably from the great +rusty spurs at their heels. They were clad in cotton--dusky white +breeches, dusky blue tunics--a sort of undress, tempered by the +vicissitudes of a long war and the laxity of discipline engendered +by political trouble at home. + +They had left their horses in the stable of a venta, hidden among +ilex trees by the roadside, and had clambered to this point of +vantage above the highway, to pass the afternoon after the manner of +their race. For the Spaniard will be found playing cards amid the +wreck of the world and in the intervals between the stupendous +events of the last day. + +'He comes,' said the elder man at length, as he leisurely shuffled +the greasy cards. 'I hear his horse's hoofs.' + +And, indeed, the great silence which seems to brood over the uplands +of Spain--the silence, as it were, of an historic past and a dead +present--was broken by the distant regular beat of hoofs. + +The trooper who had spoken was a bullet-headed Castilian, with +square jaw and close-set eyes. His companion, a younger man, merely +nodded his head, and studied the cards which had just been dealt to +him. The game progressed, and Concepcion Vara, on the Toledo road, +approached at a steady trot. This man showed to greater advantage +on horseback and beneath God's open sky than in the streets of a +city. Here, in the open and among the mountains, he held his head +erect and faced the world, ready to hold his own against it. In the +streets he wore a furtive air, and glanced from left to right +fearing recognition. + +He now took his tired horse to the stable of the little venta, +where, with his usual gallantry, he assisted a hideous old hag to +find a place in the stalls. While uttering a gay compliment, he +deftly secured for his mount a feed of corn which was much in excess +of that usually provided for the money. + +'Ah!' he said, as he tipped the measure; 'I can always tell when a +woman has been pretty; but with you, senora, no such knowledge is +required. You will have your beauty for many years yet.' + +Thus Vara and his horse fared ever well upon the road. He lingered +at the stable door, knowing perhaps that corn poured into the manger +may yet find its way back to the bin, and then turned his steps +towards the mountain. + +The cards were still falling with a whispering sound upon the rock +selected as a table, and, with the spirit of a true sportsman, +Concepcion waited until the hand was played out before imparting his +news. + +'It is well,' he said at length. 'A carriage has been ordered from +a friend of mine in Toledo to take the road to-night to Talavera-- +and Talavera is on the way to Lisbon. What did I tell you?' + +The two soldiers nodded. One was counting his gains, which amounted +to almost threepence. The loser wore a brave air of indifference, +as behoved a reckless soldier taking loss or gain in a Spartan +spirit. + +'There will be six men,' continued Concepcion. 'Two on horseback, +two on the box, two inside the carriage with their prisoner--my +friend.' + +'Ah!' said the younger soldier thoughtfully. + +Concepcion looked at him. + +'What have you in your mind?' he asked. + +'I was wondering how three men could best kill six.' + +'Out of six,' said the older man, 'there is always one who runs +away. I have found it so in my experience.' + +'And of five there is always one who cannot use his knife,' added +Concepcion. + +Still the younger soldier, who had medals all across his chest, +shook his head. + +'I am afraid,' he said. 'I am always afraid before I fight.' + +Concepcion looked at the man whom General Vincente had selected from +a brigade of tried soldiers, and gave a little upward jerk of the +head. + +'With me,' he said, 'it is afterwards--when all is over. Then my +hand shakes, and the wet trickles down my face.' + +He laughed, and spread out his hands. + +'And yet,' he said gaily, 'it is the best game of all--is it not +so?' + +The troopers shrugged their shoulders. One may have too much of +even the best game. + +'The carriage is ordered for eight o'clock,' continued the practical +Concepcion, rolling a cigarette, which he placed behind his ear +where a clerk would carry his pen. 'Those who take the road when +the night-birds come abroad have something to hide. We will see +what they have in their carriage, eh? The horses are hired for the +journey to Galvez, where a relay is doubtless ordered. It will be a +fine night for a journey. There is a half moon, which is better +than the full for those who use the knife; but the Galvez horses +will not be required, I think.' + +The younger soldier, upon whose shoulder gleamed the stars of a +rapid promotion, looked up to the sky, where a few fleecy clouds +were beginning to gather above the setting sun like sheep about a +gate. + +'A half moon for the knife and a full moon for firearms,' he said. + +'Yes; and they will shoot quick enough if we give them the chance,' +said Concepcion. 'They are Carlists! There is a river between this +and Galvez--a little stream such as we have in Andalusia--so small +that there is only a ford and no bridge. The bed of the river is +soft; the horses will stop, or, at all events, must go at the +walking pace. Across the stream are a few trees' (he paused, +illustrating his description with rapid gestures and an imaginary +diagram drawn upon the rock with the forefinger), 'ilex, and here, +to the left, some pines. The stream runs thus from north-east to +south-west. This bank is high, and over here are low-lying meadows +where pigs feed.' + +He looked up, and the two soldiers nodded. The position lay before +them like a bird's-eye view; and Concepcion, in whom Spain had +perhaps lost a guerilla general, had only set eyes on the spot once +as he rode past it. + +'This matter is best settled on foot; is it not so? We cross the +stream, and tie our horses to the pine trees. I will recross the +water, and come back to meet the carriage at the top of the hill-- +here. The horsemen will be in advance. We will allow them to cross +the stream. The horses will come out of the water slowly, or I know +nothing of horses. As they step up the incline, you take their +riders, and remember to give them the chance of running away. In +midstream I will attack the two on the box, pulling him who is not +driving into the water by his legs, and giving him the blade in the +right shoulder above the lung. He will think himself dead, but +should recover. Then you must join me. We shall be three to three, +unless the Englishman's hands are loose; then we shall be four to +three, and need do no man any injury. The Englishman is as strong +as two, and quick with it, as big men rarely are.' + +'Do you take a hand?' asked the Castilian, fingering the cards. + +'No; I have affairs. Continue your game.' + +So the sun went down, and the two soldiers continued their game, +while Concepcion sat beside them and slowly, lovingly sharpened his +knife on a piece of slate which he carried in his pocket for the +purpose. + +After sunset there usually arises a cold breeze which blows across +the table-lands of Castile quite gently and unobtrusively. A local +proverb says of this wind that it will extinguish a man but not a +candle. When this arose, the three men descended the mountain-side +and sat down to a simple if highly-flavoured meal provided by the +ancient mistress of the venta. At half-past eight, when there +remained nothing of the day but a faint greenish light in the +western sky, the little party mounted their horses and rode away +towards Galvez. + +''Tis better,' said Concepcion, with a meaning and gallant bow to +the hostess. ''Tis for my peace of mind. I am but a man.' + +Then he haggled over the price of the supper. + +They rode forward to the ford described by Concepcion, and there +made their preparations--carefully and coolly--as men recognising +the odds against them. The half moon was just rising as the +soldiers splashed through the water leading Concepcion's horse, he +remaining on the Toledo side of the river. + +'The saints protect us!' said the nervous soldier, and his hand +shook on the bridle. His companion smiled at the recollection of +former fights passed through together. It is well, in love and war, +to beware of him who says he is afraid. + +Shortly after nine o'clock the silence of that deserted plain was +broken by a distant murmur, which presently shaped itself into the +beat of horses' feet. To this was added soon the rumble of wheels. +The elder soldier put a whole cigarette into his mouth and chewed +it. The younger man made no movement now. They crouched low at +their posts one on each side of the ford. Concepcion was across the +river, but they could not see him. In Andalusia they say that a +contrabandist can conceal himself behind half a brick. + +The two riders were well in front of the carriage, and, as had been +foreseen, the horses lingered on the rise of the bank as if +reluctant to leave the water without having tasted it. In a moment +the younger soldier had his man out of the saddle, raising his own +knee sharply as the man fell, so that the falling head and the +lifted knee came into deadly contact. It was a trick well known to +the trooper, who let the insensible form roll to the ground, and +immediately darted down the bank to the stream. The other soldier +was chasing his opponent up the hill, shelling him, as he rode away, +with oaths and stones. + +In mid-stream the clumsy travelling carriage had come to a +standstill. The driver on the box, having cast down his reins, was +engaged in imploring the assistance of a black-letter saint, upon +which assistance he did not hesitate to put a price, in candles. +There was a scurrying in the water, which was about two feet deep, +where Concepcion was settling accounts with the man who had been +seated by the driver's side. A half-choked scream of pain appeared +to indicate that Concepcion had found the spot he sought, above the +right lung, and that amiable smuggler now rose dripping from the +flood and hurried to the carriage. + +'Conyngham!' he shouted, laying aside that ceremony upon which he +never set great store. + +'Yes,' answered a voice from within. 'Is that you, Concepcion?' + +'Of course; throw them out.' + +'But the door is locked,' answered Conyngham in a muffled voice. +And the carriage began to rock and crack upon its springs, as if an +earthquake were taking place inside it. + +'The window is good enough for such rubbish,' said Concepcion. As +he spoke a man, violently propelled from within, came head foremost, +and most blasphemously vociferous, into Concepcion's arms, who +immediately, and with the rapidity of a terrier, had him by the +throat and forced him under water. + +'You have hold of my leg--you, on the other side,' shouted Conyngham +from the turmoil within. + +'A thousand pardons, senor!' said the soldier, and took a new grip +of another limb. + +Concepcion, holding his man under water, heard the sharp crack of +another head upon the soldier's kneecap, and knew that all was well. + +'That is all?' he inquired. + +'That is all,' replied the soldier, who did not seem at all nervous +now. 'And we have killed no one.' + +'Put a knife into that son of a mule who prays upon the box there,' +said Concepcion judicially. 'This is no time for prayer. Just +where the neck joins the shoulder--that is a good place.' + +And a sudden silence reigned upon the box. + +'Pull the carriage to the bank,' commanded Concepcion. 'There is no +need for the English Excellency to wet his feet. He might catch a +cold.' + +They all made their way to the bank, where, in the dim moonlight, +one man sat nursing his shoulder while another lay, at length, quite +still, upon the pebbles. + +The young soldier laid a second victim to the same deadly trick +beside him, while Concepcion patted his foe kindly on the back. + +'It is well,' he said, 'you have swallowed water. You will be sick, +and then you will be well. But if you move from that spot I will +let the water out another way.' + +And, laughing pleasantly at this delicate display of humour, he +turned to help Conyngham, who was clambering out of the carriage +window. + +'Whom have you with you?' asked Conyngham. + +'Two honest soldiers of General Vincente's division. You see, +senor, you have good friends.' + +'Yes, I see that.' + +'One of them,' said Concepcion meaningly, 'is at Toledo at the +moment, journeying after you. + +'Ah!' + +'The Senor Pleydell.' + +'Then we will go back to meet him.' + +'I thought so,' said Concepcion. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. A CROSS-EXAMINATION. + + + +'Wherein I am false I am honest--not true to be true.' + +'I will sing you a contrabandista song,' said Concepcion, as the +party rode towards Toledo in the moonlight. 'The song we--they sing +when the venture has been successful. You may hear it any dark +night in the streets of Gaucin.' + +'Sing,' said the older soldier, 'if it is in your lungs. For us--we +prefer to travel silent.' + +Conyngham, mounted on the horse from which the Carlist rider had +been dragged unceremoniously enough, rode a few paces in front. The +carriage had been left behind at the venta, where no questions were +asked, and the injured men revived readily enough. + +'It is well,' answered Concepcion, in no way abashed. 'I will sing. +In Andalusia we can all sing. The pigs sing better there than the +men of Castile.' + +It was after midnight when the party rode past the Church of the +Cristo de la Vega, and faced the long hill that leads to the gate +Del Cambron. Above them towered the city of Toledo--silent and +dreamlike. Concepcion had ceased singing now, and the hard +breathing of the horses alone broke the silence. The Tagus, +emerging here from rocky fastness, flowed noiselessly away to the +west--a gleaming ribbon laid across the breast of the night. In the +summer it is no uncommon thing for travellers to take the road by +night in Spain, and although many doubtless heard the clatter of +horses' feet on the polished cobble stones of the city, none rose +from bed to watch the horsemen pass. + +At that time Toledo possessed, and indeed to the present day can +boast of, but one good inn--a picturesque old house in the Plaza de +Zocodover, overhung by the mighty Alcazar. Here Cervantes must have +eaten and Lazarillo de Tormes no doubt caroused. Here those +melancholy men and mighty humorists must have delighted the idler by +their talk. Concepcion soon aroused the sleeping porter, and the +great doors being thrown open, the party passed into the courtyard +without quitting the saddle. + +'It is,' said Concepcion, 'an English Excellency and his suite.' + +'We have another such in the house,' answered the sleepy doorkeeper, +'though he travels with but one servant.' + +'We know that, my friend, which is the reason why we patronise your +dog-hole of an inn. See that the two Excellencies breakfast +together at a table apart in the morning.' + +'You will have matters to speak about with the Senor Pleydell in the +morning,' said Concepcion, as he unpacked Conyngham's luggage a few +minutes later. + +'Yes, I should like to speak to Senor Pleydell.' + +'And I,' said Concepcion, turning round with a brush in his hand, +'should like a moment's conversation with Senor Larralde.' + +'Ah!' + +'Yes, Excellency, he is in this matter too. But the Senor Larralde +is so modest--so modest! He always remains in the background.' + +In the tents of Kedar men sleep as sound as those who lie on soft +pillows, and Conyngham was late astir the next morning. Sir John +Pleydell was, it transpired, already at his breakfast, and had +ordered his carriage for an early hour to take the road to Talavera. +It was thus evident that Sir John knew nothing of the arrival of his +fellow-countryman at midnight. + +The cold face of the great lawyer wore a look of satisfaction as he +sat at a small table in the patio of the hotel and drank his coffee. +Conyngham watched him for a moment from the balcony of the +courtyard, himself unseen, while Concepcion stood within his +master's bedroom, and rubbed his brown hands together in +anticipation of a dramatic moment. Conyngham passed down the stone +steps and crossed the patio with a gay smile. Sir John recognised +him as he emerged from the darkness of the stairway, but his face +betrayed neither surprise nor fear. There was a look in the grey +eyes, however, that seemed to betoken doubt. Such a look a man +might wear who had long travelled with assurance upon a road which +he took to be the right one, and then at a turning found himself in +a strange country with no landmark to guide him. + +Sir John Pleydell had always outwitted his fellows. He had, in +fact, been what is called a successful man--a little cleverer, a +little more cunning than those around him. + +He looked up now at Conyngham, who was drawing forward a chair to +the neighbouring table, and the cold eye, which had been the dread +of many a criminal, wavered. + +'The waiter has set my breakfast near to yours,' said Conyngham, +unconcernedly seating himself. + +And Concepcion in the balcony above cursed the English for a cold- +blooded race. This was not the sort of meeting he had anticipated. +He could throw a knife very prettily, and gave a short sigh of +regret as he turned to his peaceful duties. + +Conyngham examined the simple fare provided for him, and then looked +towards his companion with that cheerfulness which is too rare in +this world; for it is born of a great courage, and outward +circumstances cannot affect it. Sir John Pleydell had lost all +interest in his meal, and was looking keenly at Conyngham-- +dissecting, as it were, his face, probing his mind, searching +through the outward manner of the man, and running helplessly +against a motive which he failed to understand. + +'I have in my long experience found that all men may be divided into +two classes,' he said acidly. + +'Fools and knaves?' suggested Conyngham. + +'You have practised at the Bar,' parenthetically. + +Conyngham shrugged his shoulders. + +'Unsuccessfully--anybody can do that.' + +'Which are you--a fool or a knave?' asked Sir John. + +And suddenly Conyngham pitied him. For no man is proof against the +quick sense of pathos aroused by the sight of man, or dumb animal, +baffled. At the end of his life Sir John had engaged upon the +greatest quest of it--an unworthy quest, no doubt, but his heart was +in it--and he was an old man, though be bore his years well enough. + +'Perhaps that is the mistake you have always made,' said Conyngham +gravely. 'Perhaps men are not to be divided into two classes. +There may be some who only make mistakes, Sir John.' + +Unconsciously he had lapsed into the advocate, as those who have +once played the part are apt to do. This was not his own cause, but +Geoffrey Horner's. And he served his friend so thoroughly that for +the moment he really was the man whose part he had elected to play. +Sir John Pleydell was no mean foe. Geoffrey Horner had succeeded in +turning aside the public suspicion, and in the eternal march of +events, of which the sound is louder as the world grows older and +hollower, the murder of Alfred Pleydell had been forgotten by all +save his father. Conyngham saw the danger, and never thought to +avoid it. What had been undertaken half in jest would be carried +out in deadly earnest. + +'Mistakes,' said Sir John sceptically. In dealing with the seamy +side of life men come to believe that it is all stitches. + +'Which they may pass the rest of their lives in regretting.' + +Sir John looked sharply at his companion, with suspicion dawning in +his eyes again. It was Conyngham's tendency to overplay his part. +Later, when he became a soldier, and found that path in life for +which he was best fitted, his superior officers and the cooler +tacticians complained that he was over-eager, and in battle outpaced +the men he led. + +'Then you see now that it was a mistake?' suggested Sir John. In +cross-examinations the suggestions of Sir John Pleydell are +remembered in certain courts of justice to this day. + +'Of course.' + +'To have mixed yourself in such an affair at all?' + +'Yes.' + +Sir John seemed to be softening, and Conyngham began to see a way +out of this difficulty which had never suggested itself to him +before. + +'Such mistakes have to be paid for--and the law assesses the price.' + +Conyngham shrugged his shoulders. + +'It is easy enough to say you are sorry--the law can make no +allowance for regret.' + +Conyngham turned his attention to his breakfast, deeming it useless +to continue the topic. + +'It was a mistake to attend the meeting at Durham--you admit that?' +continued Sir John. + +'Yes--I admit that, if it is any satisfaction to you.' + +'Then it was worse than a mistake to actually lead the men out to my +house for the purpose of breaking the windows. It was almost a +crime. I would suggest to you, as a soldier for the moment, to lead +a charge up a steep hill against a body of farm labourers and others +entrenched behind a railing.' + +'That is a mere matter of opinion.' + +'And yet you did that,' said Sir John. 'If you are going to break +the law you should insure success before embarking on your +undertaking.' + +Conyngham made no answer. + +'It was also a stupid error, if I may say so, to make your way back +to Durham by Ravensworth, where you were seen and recognised. You +see I have a good case against you, Mr. Conyngham.' + +'Yes, I admit you have a good case against me, but you have not +caught me yet.' + +Sir John Pleydell looked at him coldly. + +'You do not even take the trouble to deny the facts I have named.' + +'Why should I, when they are true?' asked Conyngham carelessly. + +Sir John Pleydell leant back in his chair. + +'I have classified you,' he said with a queer laugh. + +'Ah!' answered Conyngham, suddenly uneasy. + +'Yes--as a fool.' + +He leant forward with a deprecating gesture of his thin white hand. + +'Do not be offended,' he said, 'and do not reproach yourself for +having given your case away. You never had a case, Mr. Conyngham. +Chartists are not made of your material at all. As soon as you gave +me your card in Madrid, I had a slight suspicion. I thought you +were travelling under a false name. It was plain to the merest +onlooker that you were not the man I sought. You are too easy- +going, too much of a gentleman to be a Chartist. You are screening +somebody else. You have played the part well, and with an admirable +courage and fidelity. I wish my boy Alfred had had a few such +friends as you. But you are a fool, Mr. Conyngham. No man on earth +is worth the sacrifice that you have made.' + +Conyngham slowly stirred his coffee. He was meditating. + +'You have pieced together a very pretty tale,' he said at length. +'Some new scheme to get me within the reach of the English law, no +doubt.' + +'It is a pretty tale--too pretty for practical life. And if you +want proofs I will mention the fact that the Chartist meeting was at +Chester-le-Street, not Durham; that my house stands in a hollow and +not on a hill; that you could not possibly go to Durham via +Ravensworth, for they lie in opposite directions. No, Mr. +Conyngham, you are not the man I seek. And, strange to say, I took +a liking to you when I first saw you. I am no believer in instinct, +or mutual sympathy, or any such sentimental nonsense. I do not +believe in much, Mr. Conyngham, and not in human nature at all. I +know too much about it for that. But there must have been something +in that liking for you at first sight. I wish you no harm, Mr. +Conyngham. I am like Balaam--I came to curse, and now stay to +bless. Or, perhaps, I am more like Balaam's companion and adviser-- +I bray too much.' + +He sat back again with a queer smile. + +'You may go home to England to-morrow if you care to,' he added, +after a pause, 'and if that affair is ever raked up against you I +will be your counsel, if you will have me.' + +'Thank you.' + +'You do not want to go home to England?' suggested Sir John, whose +ear was as quick as his eye. + +'No, I have affairs in Spain.' + +'Or--perhaps a castle here. Beware of such--I once had one.' + +And the cold grey face softened for an instant. It seemed at times +as if there were after all a man behind that marble casing. + +'A man who can secure such a friendship as yours has proved itself +to be,' said Sir John after a short silence, 'can scarcely be wholly +bad. He may, as you say, have made a mistake. I promise nothing; +but perhaps I will make no further attempts to find him.' + +Conyngham was silent. To speak would have been to admit. + +'So far as I am concerned,' said Sir John, rising, 'you are safe in +this or any country. But I warn you--you have a dangerous enemy in +Spain.' + +'I know,' answered Conyngham, with a laugh, 'Mr. Esteban Larralde. +I once undertook to deliver a letter for him. It was not what he +represented it to be, and after I had delivered it he began to +suspect me of having read it. He is kind enough to consider me of +some importance in the politics of this country owing to the +information I am supposed to possess. I know nothing of the +contents of the letter, but I want to regain it--if only for a few +moments. That is the whole story, and that is how matters stand +between Larralde and myself.' + + + +CHAPTER XXII. REPARATION. + + + +'Il s'en faut bien que l'innocence trouve autant de protection que +le crime.' + +For those minded to leave Spain at this time, there was but one +route, namely, the south, for the northern exits were closed by the +Carlists, still in power there, though thinning fast. Indeed, Don +Carlos was now illustrating the fact, which any may learn by the +study of the world's history, that it is not the great causes, but +the great men, who have made and destroyed nations. Nearly half of +Spain was for Don Carlos. The Church sided with him, and the best +soldiers were those who, unpaid, unfed, and half clad, fought on the +southern slopes of the Pyrenees for a man who dared not lead them. + +Sir John Pleydell had intended crossing the frontier into Portugal, +following the carriage conveying his prisoner to the seaport of +Lisbon, where he anticipated no difficulty in finding a ship captain +who would be willing to carry Conyngham to England. All this, +however, had been frustrated by so unimportant a person as +Concepcion Vara, and the carriage ordered for nine o'clock to +proceed to Talavera now stood in the courtyard of the hotel, while +the Baronet in his lonely apartment sat and wondered what he should +do next. He had dealt with justice all his life, and had ensued it +not from love, but as a matter of convenience and a means of +livelihood. From the mere habit, he now desired to do justice to +Conyngham. + +'See if you can find out for me the whereabouts of General Vincente +at the moment, and let the carriage wait,' he said to his servant, a +valet-courier of taciturn habit. + +The man was absent about half an hour, and returned with a face that +promised little. + +'There is a man in the hotel, sir,' he said, 'the servant of Mr. +Conyngham, who knows, but will not tell me. I am told, however, +that a lady living in Toledo, a Contessa Barenna, will undoubtedly +have the information. General Vincente was lately in Madrid, but +his movements are so rapid and uncertain, that he has become a by- +word in Spain.' + +'So I understand. I will call on this Contessa this afternoon, +unless you can get the information elsewhere during the morning. I +shall not want the carriage.' + +Sir John walked slowly to the window, deep in thought. He was +interested in Conyngham, despite himself. It is possible that he +had not hitherto met a man capable of so far forgetting his own +interests as to undertake a foolish and dangerous escapade without +anything in the nature of gain or advantage to recommend it. The +windows of the hotel of the Comercio in Toledo look out upon the +market-place, and Sir John, who was an indoor man, and mentally +active enough to be intensely bored at times, frequently used this +opportunity of studying Spanish life. + +He was looking idly through the vile panes, when an old priest +passed by, and glanced up beneath shaggy brows. + +'Seen that man before,' said Sir John. + +'Ah!' muttered Father Concha, as he hurried on towards the Palazzo +Barenna. 'So far, so good. Where the fox is, will be found the +stolen fowl.' + +Concepcion Vara, who was saddling his horse in the stable yard of +the inn, saw the Padre pass. + +'Ah, clever one!' he muttered, 'with your jokes about my wife. Now +you may make a false journey for all the help you receive from me.' + +And a few minutes later Concepcion rode across the Bridge of +Alcantara, some paces behind Conyngham, who deemed it wise to return +to his duties at Madrid without delay. + +Despite the great heat on the plains, which, indeed, made it almost +dangerous to travel at midday, the streets of Toledo were cool and +shady enough, as Sir John Pleydell traversed them in search of the +Palazzo Barenna. The Contessa was in, and the Englishman was +ushered into a vast room, which even the taste of the day could not +entirely deprive of its mediaeval grandeur. Sir John explained to +the servant in halting Spanish that his name was unknown to the +Senora Barenna, but that--a stranger in some slight difficulty--he +had been recommended to seek her assistance. + +Sir John was an imposing-looking man, with that grand air which +enables some men not only to look, but to get over a wall while an +insignificant wight may not so much as approach the gate. The +senora's curiosity did the rest. In a few minutes the rustle of +silk made Sir John turn from the contemplation of a suit of armour. + +'Madame speaks French?' + +'But yes, senor.' + +Madame Barenna glanced towards a chair, which Sir John hastened to +bring forward. He despised her already, and she admired his manner +vastly. + +'I have taken the immense liberty of intruding myself upon your +notice, Madame.' + +'Not to sell me a Bible?' exclaimed Senora Barenna, with her fan +upheld in warning. + +'A Bible! I believe I have one at home, in England, Madame, but--' + +'It is well,' said Madame sinking back and fanning herself rather +faintly. 'Excuse my fears. But there is an Englishman--what is his +name? I forget.' + +'Borrow.' + +'Yes; that is it, Borrow. And he sells Bibles; and Father Concha, +my confessor, a bear, but a holy man--a holy bear, as one might say- +-has forbidden me to buy one. I am so afraid of disobeying him, by +heedlessness or forgetfulness. There are, it appears, some things +in the Bible which one ought not to read, and one naturally--' + +She finished the sentence with a shrug, and an expressive gesture of +the fan. + +'One naturally desires to read them,' suggested Sir John. 'The +privilege of all Eve's daughters, Madame.' + +Senora Barenna treated the flatterer to what the French call a fin +sourire, and wondered how long Julia would stay away. This man +would pay her a compliment in another moment. + +'I merely called on the excuse of a common friendship, to ask if you +can tell me the whereabouts of General Vincente,' said Sir John, +stating his business in haste and when the opportunity presented +itself. + +'Is it politics?' asked the lady, with a hasty glance round the +room. + +'No, it is scarcely politics; but why do you ask? You are surely +too wise, Madame, to take part in such. It is a woman's mission to +please--and when it is so easy!' + +He waved his thin white hand in completion of a suggestion which +made his hearer bridle her stout person. + +'No, no,' she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the door. +'No; it is my daughter. Ah! senor, you can scarce imagine what it +is to live upon a volcano!' + +And she pointed to the oaken floor with her fan. Sir John deemed it +wise to confine his display of sympathy to a glance of the deepest +concern. + +'No,' he said; 'it is merely a personal matter. I have a +communication to make to my friend General Vincente or to his +daughter.' + +'To Estella?' + +'To the Senorita Estella.' + +'Do you think her beautiful? Some do, you know. Eyes--I admit-- +yes, lovely.' + +'I admire the senorita exceedingly.' + +'Ah yes, yes. You have not seen my daughter, have you, senor? +Julia--she rather resembles Estella.' + +Senora Barenna paused and examined her fan with a careless air. + +'Some say,' she went on, apparently with reluctance, 'that Julia is- +-well--has some advantages over Estella. But _I_ do not, of course. +I admire Estella, excessively--oh yes, yes.' + +And the senora's dark eyes searched Sir John's face. They might +have found more in sculptured marble. + +'Do you know where she is?' asked Sir John, almost bluntly. Like a +workman who has mistaken his material, he was laying aside his finer +conversational tools. + +'Well, I believe they arrive in Toledo this evening. I cannot think +why. But with General Vincente one never knows. He is so pleasant, +so playful--such a smile--but you know him. Well, they say in Spain +that he is always where he is wanted. Ah!' Madame paused and cast +her eyes up to the ceiling, 'what it is to be wanted somewhere, +senor.' + +And she gave him the benefit of one of her deepest sighs. Sir John +mentally followed the direction of her glance, and wondered what the +late Count thought about it. + +'Yes, I am deeply interested in Estella--as indeed is natural, for +she is my niece. She has no mother, and the General has such absurd +ideas. He thinks that a girl is capable of choosing a husband for +herself. But to you--an Englishman--such an idea is naturally not +astonishing. I am told that in your country it is the girls who +actually propose marriage.' + +'Not in words, Madame--not more in England than elsewhere.' + +'Ah,' said Madame, looking at him doubtfully, and thinking, despite +herself, of Father Concha. + +Sir John rose from the chair he had taken at the senora's silent +invitation. + +'Then I may expect the General to arrive at my hotel this evening,' +he said. 'I am staying at the Comercio, the only hotel, as I +understand, in Toledo.' + +'Yes, he will doubtless descend there. Do you know Frederick +Conyngham, senor?' + +'Yes.' + +'But everyone knows him!' exclaimed the lady vivaciously. 'Tell me +how it is. A most pleasant young man, I allow you--but without +introductions and quite unconnected. Yet he has friends +everywhere.' + +She paused and, closing her fan, leant forward in an attitude of +intense confidence and secrecy. + +'And how about his little affair?' she whispered. + +'His little affair, Madame?' + +'De coeur,' explained the lady, tapping her own breast with an +eloquent fan. + +'Estella,' she whispered after a pause. + +'Ah!' said Sir John, as if he knew too much about it to give an +opinion. And he took his leave. + +'That is the sort of woman to break one's heart in the witness box,' +he said as he passed out into the deserted street, and Senora +Barenna, in the great room with the armour, reflected complacently +that the English lord had been visibly impressed. + +General Vincente and Estella arrived at the hotel in the evening, +but did not of course appear in the public rooms. The dusty old +travelling carriage was placed in a quiet corner of the courtyard of +the hotel, and the General appeared on this, as on all occasions, to +court retirement and oblivion. Unlike many of his brothers-in-arms, +he had no desire to catch the public eye. + +'There is doubtless something astir,' said the waiter, who, in the +intervals of a casual attendance on Sir John, spoke of these things, +cigarette in mouth. 'There is doubtless something astir, since +General Vincente is on the road. They call him the Stormy Petrel, +for when he appears abroad there usually follows a disturbance.' + +Sir John sent his servant to the General's apartment about eight +o'clock in the evening asking permission to present himself. In +reply, the General himself came to Sir John's room. + +'My dear sir,' he cried, taking both the Englishman's hands in an +affectionate grasp, 'to think that you were in the hotel and that we +did not dine together. Come, yes, come to our poor apartment, where +Estella awaits the pleasure of renewing your acquaintance.' + +'Then the senorita,' said Sir John, following his companion along +the dimly-lighted passage, 'has her father's pleasant faculty of +forgetting any little contretemps of the past?' + +'Ask her,' exclaimed the General in his cheery way. 'Ask her.' And +he threw open the door of the dingy salon they occupied. + +Estella was standing with her back to the window, and her attitude +suggested that she had not sat down since she had heard of Sir +John's presence in the hotel. + +'Senorita,' said the Englishman, with that perfect knowledge of the +world which usually has its firmest basis upon indifference to +criticism, 'senorita, I have come to avow a mistake and to make my +excuses.' + +'It is surely unnecessary,' said Estella, rather coldly. + +'Say rather,' broke in the General in his smoothest way, 'that you +have come to take a cup of coffee with us and to tell us your news.' + +Sir John took the chair which the General brought forward. + +'At all events,' he said, still addressing Estella, 'it is probably +a matter of indifference to you, as it is merely an opinion +expressed by myself which I wish to retract. When I first had the +pleasure of meeting you, I took it upon myself to speak of a guest +in your father's house, fortunately in the presence of that guest +himself, and I now wish to tell you that what I said does not apply +to Frederick Conyngham himself, but to another whom Conyngham is +screening. He has not confessed so much to me, but I have satisfied +myself that he is not the man I seek. You, General, who know more +of the world than the senorita, and have been in it almost as long +as I have, can bear me out in the statement that the motives of men +are not so easy to discern as younger folks imagine. I do not know +what induced Conyngham to undertake this thing; probably he entered +into it in a spirit of impetuous and reckless generosity, which +would only be in keeping with his character. I only know that he +has carried it out with a thoroughness and daring worthy of all +praise. If such a tie were possible between an old man and a young, +I should like to be able to claim Mr. Conyngham as a friend. There, +senorita--thank you, I will take coffee. I made the accusation in +your presence. I retract it before you. It is, as you see, a small +matter.' + +'But it is of small matters that life is made up,' put in the +General in his deferential way. 'Our friend,' he went on after a +pause, 'is unfortunate in misrepresenting himself. We also have a +little grudge against him--a little matter of a letter which has not +been explained. I admit that I should like to see that letter.' + +'And where is it?' asked Sir John. + +'Ah!' replied Vincente, with a shrug of the shoulders and a gay +little laugh, 'who can tell? Perhaps in Toledo, my dear sir-- +perhaps in Toledo.' + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. LARRALDE'S PRICE. + + + +'It is as difficult to be entirely bad as it is to be entirely +good.' + +To those who say that there is no Faith, Spain is in itself a +palpable answer. No country in the world can show such cathedrals +as those of Granada, Cordova, Seville, Toledo, Burgos. In any other +land any one of these great structures would suffice. But in Spain +these huge monuments to that Faith which has held serenely through +war and fashion, through thought and thoughtlessness, are to be +found in all the great cities. And the queen of them all is Toledo. + +Father Concha, that sour-visaged philosopher, had a queer pride in +his profession and in the history of that Church which is to-day +seen in its purest form in the Peninsula, while it is so entangled +with the national story of Spain that the two are but one tale told +from a different point of view. As a private soldier may take +pleasure in standing on a great battlefield noting each spot of +interest--here a valley of death, there the scene of a cavalry +charge of which the thunder will echo down through all the ages--so +Concha, a mere country priest, liked to pace the aisles of a great +cathedral, indulging the while in a half-cynical pride. He was no +great general, no leader, of no importance in the ranks. But he was +of the army, and partook in a minute degree in those victories that +belonged to the past. It was his habit thus to pay a visit to +Toledo Cathedral whensoever his journeys led him to Castile. It +was, moreover, his simple custom to attend the early mass which is +here historical; and, indeed, to walk through the church, grey and +cool, with the hush that seems to belong only to buildings of +stupendous age, is in itself a religious service. + +Concha was passing across the nave, hat in hand, a gaunt, ill-clad, +and somewhat pathetic figure, when he caught sight of Sir John +Pleydell. The Englishman paused involuntarily and looked at the +Spaniard. Concha bowed. + +'We met,' he said, 'for a moment in the garden of General Vincente's +house at Ronda.' + +'True,' answered Sir John. 'Are you leaving the Cathedral? We +might walk a little way together. One cannot talk idly--here.' + +He paused and looked up at the great oak screen--at the towering +masonry. + +'No,' answered Concha gravely. 'One cannot talk idly here.' + +Concha held back the great leathern portiere, and the Englishman +passed out. + +'This is a queer country, and you are a queer people,' he said +presently. 'When I was at Ronda I met a certain number of persons-- +I can count them on my fingers. General Vincente, his daughter, +Senora Barenna, Senorita Barenna, the Englishman Conyngham, +yourself, Senor Concha. I arrived in Toledo yesterday morning; in +twenty-four hours I have caught sight of all the persons mentioned, +here in Toledo.' + +'And here, in Toledo, is another of whom you have not caught sight,' +said Concha. + +'Ah?' + +'Yes; Senor Larralde.' + +'Is he here?' + +'Yes,' said Concha. + +They walked on in silence for some minutes. + +'What are we all doing here, Padre?' inquired Sir John, with his +cold laugh. + +'What are you doing here, senor?' + +Sir John did not answer at once. They were walking leisurely. The +streets were deserted, as indeed the streets of Toledo usually are. + +'I am putting two and two together,' the great lawyer answered at +length. 'I began doing so in idleness, and now I have become +interested.' + +'Ah!' + +'Yes. I have become interested. They say, Padre, that a pebble set +in motion at the summit of a mountain may gather other pebbles and +increase in bulk and speed until, in the form of an avalanche, it +overwhelms a city in the valley.' + +'Yes, senor.' + +'And I have conceived the strange fancy that Frederick Conyngham, +when he first came to this country, set such a pebble in motion at +the summit of a very high mountain. It has been falling and falling +silently ever since, and it is gaining in bulk. And you, and +General Vincente, and Estella Vincente, and Senorita Barenna, and +Frederick Conyngham, and in a minor degree myself, are on the slope +in the track of the avalanche, and are sliding down behind it. And +the General and Estella, and yourself and Conyngham, are trying to +overtake it and stop it. And, reverendo, in the valley below is the +monarchy of Spain--the Bourbon cause.' + +Father Concha, remembering his favourite maxim that no flies enter a +shut mouth, was silent. + +'The pebble was a letter,' said Sir John. + +'And Larralde has it,' he added after a pause. 'And that is why you +are all in Toledo--why the air is thick with apprehension, and why +all Spain seems to pause and wait breathlessly. Will the avalanche +be stopped, or will it not? Will the Bourbons--than whom history +has known no more interesting and more unsatisfactory race, except +our own Stuarts--will the Bourbons fall, Senor Padre?' + +'Ah!' said Concha, whose furrowed face and pessimistic glance +betrayed nothing. 'Ah!' + +'You will not tell me, of course. You know much that you will not +tell me, and I merely ask you from curiosity. You perhaps know one +thing, and that I wish to learn from you--not out of curiosity, but +because I, too, would fain overtake the avalanche and stop it. I am +no politician, senor, though of course I have my views. When a man +has reached my age, he knows assuredly that politics merely mean +self-aggrandisement, and nothing else. No--the Bourbons may fall; +Spain may follow the lead of France and make an exhibition of +herself before the world as a Republic. I am indifferent to these +events. But I wish to do Frederick Conyngham a good turn, and I ask +you to tell me where I shall find Larralde--you who know everything, +Senor Padre.' + +Concha reflected while they walked along on the shady side of the +narrow street. It happened to be the street where the saddlers +live, and the sharp sound of their little hammers on leather and +wood came from almost every darkened doorway. The Padre had a +wholesome fear of Esteban Larralde, and an exaggerated estimation of +that schemer's ability. He was a humble-minded old man, and ever +hesitated to pit his own brain against that of another. He knew +that Sir John was a cleverer man than Larralde, deeper versed in +that side of human nature where the seams are and the knots and the +unsightly stitches; older, more experienced, and probably no more +scrupulous. + +'Yes,' said the priest, 'I can tell you that. Larralde lodges in +the house of a malcontent, one Lamberto, a scribbling journalist, +who is hurt because the world takes him at its own valuation and not +at his. The house is next to the little synagogue in the Calle de +Madrid, a small stationer's shop, where one may buy the curse of +this generation--pens and paper.' + +'Thank you,' said Sir John, civilly and simply. This man has no +doubt been ill-painted, but some may have seen that with different +companions he wore a different manner. He was, as all successful +men are, an unconscious actor, and in entering into the personality +of the companion of the moment he completely sank his own. He never +sought to be all things to all men, and yet he came near to the +accomplishment of that hard task. Sir John was not a sympathetic +man; he merely mistook life for a court of justice, and arraigned +all human nature in the witness-box, with the inward conviction that +this should by rights be exchanged for the felon's dock. + +With Concha he was as simple, as direct, and as unsophisticated as +the old priest himself, and now took his leave without attempting to +disguise the fact that he had accomplished a foreset purpose. + +Without difficulty he found the small stationer's shop next to the +synagogue in the Calle de Madrid, and bade the stationer--a +spectacled individual with upright hair and the air of seeking +something in the world which is not usually behind a counter--take +his card to Senor Larralde. At first the stationer pretended +ignorance of the name, but on discovering that Sir John had not +sufficient Spanish to conduct a conversation of intrigue, +disappeared into a back room, whence emanated a villanous smell of +cooking. + +While Sir John waited in the little shop, Father Concha walked to +the Plazuela de l'Iglesia Vieja, which small square, overhanging the +Tagus and within reach of its murmuring voice, is deserted except at +midday, when the boys play at bull-fighting and a few workmen engage +in a grave game of bowls. Concha sat, book in hand, opened honestly +at the office of the day and hour, and read no word. Instead, he +stared across the gorge at the brown bank of land which commands the +city and renders it useless as a fortress in the days of modern +artillery. He sat and stared grimly, and thought perhaps of those +secret springs within the human heart that make one man successful +and unhappy, while another, possessing brains and ability and +energy, fails in life, yet is perhaps the happier of the two. For +it had happened to Father Concha, as it may happen to writer and +reader at any moment, to meet one who in individuality bears a +resemblance to that self which we never know and yet are ever +conscious of. + +Sir John Pleydell, a few hundred yards away, obeyed the shopman's +invitation to step upstairs with something approaching alacrity. + +Larralde was seated at a table strewn with newspapers and soiled by +cigarette ash. He had the unkempt and pallid look of one who has +not seen the sun or breathed fresh air for days. For, as Concepcion +had said, this was a conspirator who preferred to lurk in friendly +shelter while others played the bolder game at the front. Larralde +had, in fact, not stirred abroad for nearly a week. + +'Well, senor,' he said, with a false air of bravado. 'How fares it +with your little undertaking?' + +'That,' replied Sir John, 'is past--and paid for. And I have +another matter for your consideration. Conyngham is not, after all, +the man I seek.' + +Sir John's manner had changed. He spoke as one having authority. +And Larralde shrugged his shoulders, remembering a past payment. + +'Ah!' he said, rolling a cigarette with a fine air of indifference. + +'On the one hand,' continued Sir John judicially, 'I come to make +you an offer which can only be beneficial to you; on the other hand, +Senor Larralde, I know enough to make things particularly unpleasant +for you.' + +Larralde raised his eyebrows and sought the matchbox. His thoughts +seemed to amuse him. + +'I have reason to assume that a certain letter is now in your +possession again. I do not know the contents of this letter, and I +cannot say that I am at all interested in it. But a friend of mine +is particularly anxious to have possession of it for a short space +of time. I have, unasked, taken upon myself the office of +intermediary.' + +Larralde's eyes flashed through the smoke. + +'You are about to offer me money; be careful, senor,' he said hotly, +and Sir John smiled. + +'Be careful, that it is enough,' he suggested. 'Keep your grand +airs for your fellows, Senor Larralde. Yes, I am about to offer you +two hundred pounds--say three thousand pesetas--for the loan of that +letter for a few hours only. I will guarantee that it is read by +one person only, and that a lady. This lady will probably glance at +the first lines, merely to satisfy herself as to the nature of its +contents. Three thousand pesetas will enable you to escape to Cuba +if your schemes fail. If you succeed, three thousand pesetas will +always be of use, even to a member of a Republican Government.' + +Larralde reflected. He had lately realised the fact that the +Carlist cause was doomed. There is a time in the schemes of men, +and it usually comes just before the crisis, when the stoutest heart +hesitates and the most reckless conspirator thinks of his retreat. +Esteban Larralde had begun to think of Cuba during the last few +days, and the mention of that haven for Spanish failures almost +unnerved him. + +'In a week,' suggested Sir John again, 'it may be--well--settled one +way or the other.' + +Larralde glanced at him sharply. This Englishman was either well- +informed or very cunning. He seemed to have read the thought in +Larralde's mind. + +'No doubt,' went on the Englishman, 'you have divined for whom I +want the letter and who will read it. We have both mistaken our +man. We both owe Conyngham a good turn--I, in reparation, you, in +gratitude; for he undoubtedly saved the Senorita Barenna from +imprisonment for life.' + +Larralde shrugged his shoulders. + +'Each man,' he said, 'must fight for himself.' + +'And the majority of us for a woman as well,' amended Sir John. 'At +least, in Spain, chivalry is not dead.' + +Larralde laughed. He was vain, and Sir John knew it. He had a keen +sight for the breach in his opponent's armour. + +'You have put your case well,' said the Spaniard patronisingly, 'and +I do not see why, at the end of a week, I should not agree to your +proposal. It is, as you say, for the sake of a woman.' + +'Precisely.' + +Larralde leant back in his chair, remembering the legendary +gallantry of his race, and wearing an appropriate expression. + +'For a woman,' he repeated with an eloquent gesture. + +'Precisely.' + +'Then I will do it, senor. I will do it.' + +'For two hundred pounds?' inquired Sir John coldly. + +'As you will,' answered the Spaniard, with a noble indifference to +such sordid matters. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. PRIESTCRAFT. + + + +'No man I fear can effect great benefits for his country without +some sacrifice of the minor virtues.' + +The Senora Barenna was a leading social light in Toledo, insomuch as +she never refused an invitation. + +'One has one's duties towards society,' she would say with a sigh. +'Though the saints know that I take no pleasure in these affairs.' + +Then she put on her best Seville mantilla and bustled off to some +function or another, where she talked volubly and without +discretion. + +Julia had of late withdrawn more and more from that life of +continued and mild festivity of which it is to be feared the +existence of many women is composed. This afternoon she sat alone +in the great gloomy house in Toledo, waiting for Larralde. For she, +like thousands of her sisters, loved an unworthy object--faute de +mieux--with open eyes and a queer philosophy that bade her love +Larralde rather than love none. She had lately spent a large part +of her existence in waiting for Larralde, who, indeed, was busy +enough at this time, and rarely stirred abroad while the sun was up. + +'Julia,' said Senora Barenna to Concha, 'is no longer a companion to +me. She does not even attempt to understand my sensitive +organisation. She is a mere statue, and thinks of nothing but +politics.' + +'For her, Madame, as for all women, there would be no politics if +there were no politicians,' the priest replied. + +This afternoon Julia was more restless than ever. Larralde had not +been to see her for many days, and had only written a hurried note +from time to time in answer to her urgent request, telling her that +he was well and in no danger. + +She now no longer knew whether he was in Toledo or not, but had +sufficient knowledge of the schemes in which he was engaged to be +aware of the fact that these were coming to a crisis. Esteban +Larralde had indeed told her more than was either necessary or +discreet, and it was his vanity that led him into this imprudence. +We are all ready enough to impart information which will show our +neighbours that we are more important than we appear. + +After a broiling day the sun was now beginning to lose a little of +his terrific power, and, in the shade of the patio upon which the +windows of Julia's room opened, the air was quite cool and pleasant. +A fountain plashed continuously in a little basin that had been +white six centuries ago, when the Moors had brought the marble +across the Gulf of Lyons to build it. The very sound of the water +was a relief to overstrained nerves, and seemed to diminish the +tension of the shimmering atmosphere. + +Julia was alone, and barely made pretence to read the book she held +in her hand. From her seat she could see the bell suspended on the +opposite wall of the courtyard, of which the deep voice at any time +of day or night had the power of stirring her heart to a sudden joy. +At last the desired sound broke the silence of the great house, and +Julia stood breathless at the window while the servant leisurely +crossed the patio and threw open the great door, large enough to +admit a carriage and pair. It was not Larralde, but Father Concha, +brought hither by a note he had received from Sir John Pleydell +earlier in the afternoon. + +'I shall have the letter in a week from now,' the Englishman had +written. + +'Which will be too late,' commented Concha pessimistically. + +The senora was out, they told him, but the senorita had remained at +home. + +'It is the senorita I desire to see.' + +And Julia, at the window above, heard the remark with a sinking +heart. The air seemed to be weighted with the suggestion of +calamity. Concha had the manner of one bringing bad news. She +forgot that this was his usual mien. + +'Ah, my child,' he said, coming into the room a minute later and +sitting down rather wearily. + +'What?' she asked, her two hands at her breast. + +He glanced at her beneath his brows. The wind was in the north- +east, dry and tingling. The sun had worn a coppery hue all day. +Such matters affect women and those who are in mental distress. +After such a day as had at last worn to evening, the mind is at a +great tension, the nerves are strained. It is at such times that +men fly into sudden anger and whip out the knife. At such times +women are reckless, and the stories of human lives take sudden +turns. + +Concha knew that he had this woman at a disadvantage. + +'What?' he echoed. 'I wish I knew. I wish at times I was no +priest.' + +'Why?' + +'Because I could help you better. Sometimes it is the man and not +the priest who is the truest friend.' + +'Why do you speak like this?' she cried. 'Is there danger? What +has happened?' + +'You know best, my child, if there is danger; you know what is +likely to happen.' + +Julia stood looking at him with hard eyes--the eyes of one in mortal +fear. + +'You have always been my friend,' she said slowly, 'my best friend.' + +'Yes. A woman's lover is never her best friend.' + +'Has anything happened to Esteban?' + +The priest did not answer at once, but paused, reflecting, and +dusting his sleeve, where there was always some snuff requiring +attention at such moments. + +'I know so little,' he said. 'I am no politician. What can I say? +What can I advise you when I am in the dark? And the time is +slipping by--slipping by.' + +'I cannot tell you,' she answered, turning away and looking out of +the window. + +'You cannot tell the priest--tell the man.' + +Then, suddenly, she reached the end of her endurance. Standing with +her back towards him, she told her story, and Concha listened with a +still, breathless avidity as one who, having long sought knowledge, +finds it at last when it seemed out of reach. The little fountain +plashed in the courtyard below; a frog in the basin among the water- +lilies croaked sociably while the priest and the beautiful woman in +the room above made history. For it is not only in kings' palaces +nor yet in Parliaments that the story of the world is shaped. + +Concha spoke no word, and Julia, having begun, left nothing unsaid, +but told him every detail in a slow mechanical voice, as if bidden +thereto by a stronger will than her own. + +'He is all the world to me,' she said simply, in conclusion. + +'Yes; and the happiest women are those who live in a small world.' + +A silence fell upon them. The old priest surreptitiously looked at +his watch. He was essentially a man of action. + +'My child,' he said, rising, 'when you are an old woman with +children to harass you and make your life worth living, you will +probably look back with thankfulness to this moment. For you have +done that which was your only chance of happiness.' + +'Why do you always help me?' she asked, as she had asked a hundred +times. + +'Because happiness is so rare that I hate to see it wasted,' he +answered, going towards the door with a grim laugh. + +He passed out of the room and crossed the patio slowly. Then, when +the great door had closed behind him, he gathered up the skirts of +his cassock and hurried down the narrow street. In such +thoroughfares as were deserted he ran with the speed and endurance +of a spare, hard-living man. Woman-like, Julia had, after all, done +things by half. She had timed her confession too late. + +At the hotel they told the Padre that General Vincente was at dinner +and could not be disturbed. + +'He sees no one,' the servant said. + +'You do not know who I am,' said Concha, in an irony which, under +the circumstances, he alone could enjoy. Then he passed up the +stairs and bade the waiter begone. + +'But I carry the General's dessert,' protested the man. + +'No,' said Concha half to himself, 'I have that.' + +Vincente was indeed at table with Estella. He looked up as the +priest entered, fingering a cigarette delicately. + +'How soon can you take the road?' asked Concha abruptly. + +'Ten minutes--the time for a cup of coffee,' was the answer, given +with a pleasant laugh. + +'Then order your carriage.' + +Vincente looked at his old friend, and the smile never left his +lips, though his eyes were grave enough. It was hard to say whether +aught on earth could disturb this man's equanimity. Then the +General rose and went to the window which opened upon the courtyard. +In the quiet corner near the rain-tank, where a vine grows upon +trellis-work, the dusty travelling-carriage stood, and upon the step +of it, eating a simple meal of bread and dried figs, sat the man who +had the reputation of being the fastest driver in Spain. + +'In ten minutes, my good Manuel,' said the General. + +'Bueno,' grumbled the driver, with his mouth full--a man of few +words. + +'Is it to go far?' asked the General, turning on his heel and +addressing Concha. + +'A long journey.' + +'To take the road, Manuel,' cried Vincente, leaning out. He closed +the window before resuming his seat. + +'And now, have you any more orders?' he asked with a gay +carelessness. 'I counted on sleeping in a bed to-night.' + +'You will not do that,' replied Concha, 'when you hear my news.' + +'Ah!' + +'But first you must promise me not to make use of the information I +give you against any suspected persons--to take, in fact, only +preventive measures.' + +'You have only to name it, my friend. Proceed.' + +The old priest paused and passed his hand across his brow. He was +breathless still, and looked worn. + +'It is,' he said, 'a very grave matter. I have not had much +experience in such things, for my path has always lain in small +parochial affairs--dealings with children and women.' + +Estella was already pouring some wine into a glass. With a woman's +instinct she saw that the old man was overwrought and faint. It was +a Friday, and in his simple way there was no more austere abstinent +than Father Concha, who had probably touched little food throughout +the long hot day. + +'Take your time, my friend; take your time,' said the General, who +never hurried and was never too late. 'A pinch of snuff now--it +stimulates the nerves.' + +'It is,' said Concha at length--breaking a biscuit in his long bony +fingers and speaking unembarrassedly with his mouth full--'it is +that I have by the merest accident lighted upon a matter of +political importance.' + +The General nodded, and held his wine up to the light. + +'There are matters of much political importance,' he said, 'in the +air just now.' + +'A plot,' continued Concha, 'spreading over all Spain; the devil is +surely in it, and I know the Carlists are. A plot, believe me, to +assassinate and rob and kidnap.' + +'Yes,' said the General with his tolerant little smile. 'Yes, my +dear Padre. Some men are so bloodthirsty; is it not so?' + +'This plot is directed against the little Queen; against the Queen +Regent; against many who are notable Royalists occupying high posts +in the Government or the army.' + +He glanced at Estella, and then looked meaningly at the General, who +could scarcely fail to comprehend. 'Let us deal with the Queen and +the Queen Regent,' said Vincente; 'the others are probably able to +take care of themselves.' + +'None can guard himself against assassination.' + +The General seemed for a moment inclined to dispute this statement, +but shrugged his shoulders and finally passed it by. + +'The Queen,' he said. 'What of her?' + +In response, Concha took a newspaper from his pocket and spread it +out on the table. After a brief search up and down the ill-printed +columns, he found the desired paragraph, and read aloud: + +'The Queen is in Madrid. The Queen Regent journeys from Seville to +rejoin her daughter in the capital, prosecuting her journey by easy +stages and accompanied by a small guard. Her Majesty sleeps at +Ciudad Real to-night, and at Toledo to-morrow night.' + +'This,' said Concha, folding the newspaper, 'is a Carlist and +revolutionary rag whose readers are scarcely likely to be interested +for a good motive in the movements of the Queen Regent.' + +'True, my dear Padre--true,' admitted Vincente, half reluctantly. + +'Many kiss hands they would fain see chopped off. In the streets +and on the Plaza I have seen many reading this newspaper and talking +over it with unusual interest. Like a bad lawyer, I am giving the +confirmation of the argument before the argument itself.' + +'No matter--no matter.' + +'Ah! but we have no time to do things ill or carelessly,' said the +priest. 'My story is a long one, but I will tell it as quickly as I +can.' + +'Take your time,' urged the General soothingly. 'This great plot, +you say, which is to spread over all Spain--' + +'Is for to-morrow night, my friend.' + + + +CHAPTER XXV. SWORDCRAFT. + + + +'Rien n'est plus courageux qu'un coeur patient, rien n'est plus sur +de soi qu'un esprit doux.' + +The General set down his glass, and a queer light came into his +eyes, usually so smiling and pleasant. + +'Ah! Then you are right, my friend. Tell us your story as quickly +as possible.' + +'It appears,' said Concha, 'that there has been in progress for many +months a plot to assassinate the Queen Regent and to seize the +person of the little Queen, expelling her from Spain, and bringing +in, not Don Carlos, who is a spent firework, but a Republic--a more +dangerous firework, that usually bursts in the hands of those that +light it. This plot has been finally put into shape by a letter--' + +He paused, tapped on the table with his bony fingers, and glanced at +Estella. + +'A letter which has been going the round of all the malcontents in +the Peninsula. Each faction-leader, to show that he has read it and +agrees to obey its commands, initials the letter. It has then been +returned to an intermediary, who sends it to the next--never by +post, because the post is watched--always by hand, and usually by +the hand of a person innocent of its contents.' + +'Yes,' murmured the General absently, and there was a queer little +smile on Estella's lips. + +'To think,' cried Concha, with a sudden fire less surprising in +Spain than in England, 'to think that we have all seen it--have +touched it! Name of a saint! I had it under my hand in the hotel +at Algeciras, and I left it on the table. And now it has been the +round, and all the initials are placed upon it, and it is for to- +morrow night.' + +'Where have you learnt this?' asked the General in a voice that made +Estella look at him. She had never seen him as his enemies had seen +him, and even they confessed that he was always visible enough in +action. Perhaps there was another man behind the personality of +this deprecating, pleasant-spoken little sybarite--a man who only +appeared (oh rara avis!) when he was wanted. + +'No matter,' replied Concha, in a voice as hard and sharp. + +'No; after all, it is of no matter, so long as your information is +reliable.' + +'You may stake your life on that,' said Concha, and remembered the +words ever after. 'It has been decided to make this journey from +Seville to Madrid the opportunity of assassinating the Queen +Regent.' + +'It will not be the first time they have tried,' put in the General. + +'No. But this time they will succeed, and it is to be here--to- +morrow night--in Toledo. After the Queen Regent's death, and in the +confusion that will supervene, the little Queen will disappear, and +then upon the rubbish-heap will spring up the mushrooms as they did +in France; and this rubbish-heap, like the other, will foul the +whole air of Europe.' + +He shook his head pessimistically till the long, wispy grey hair +waved from side to side, and his left hand, resting on the wrist- +bone on the table, made an indescribable gesture that showed a +foetid air tainted by darksome growths. + +There was a silence in the room broken by no outside sound but the +chink of champed bits as the horses stood in their traces below. +Indeed, the city of Toledo seemed strangely still this evening, and +the very air had a sense of waiting in it. The priest sat and +looked at his lifelong friend, his furrowed face the incarnation of +cynical hopelessness. 'What is, is worst,' he seemed to say. His +yellow, wise old eyes watched the quick face with the air of one +who, having posed an insoluble problem, awaits with a sarcastic +humour the admission of failure. + +General Vincente, who had just finished his wine, wiped his +moustache delicately with his table-napkin. He was thinking-- +quickly, systematically, as men learn to think under fire. Perhaps, +indeed, he had the thoughts half matured in his mind--as the +greatest general the world has seen confessed that he ever had--that +he was never taken quite by surprise. Vincente smiled as he +thought: a habit he had acquired on the field, where a staff, and +perhaps a whole army, took its cue from his face and read the turn +of fortune there. Then he looked up straight at Estella, who was +watching him. + +'Can you start on a journey, now--in five minutes?' he asked. + +'Yes,' she answered, rising and going towards the door. + +'Have you a white mantilla among your travelling things?' he asked +again. + +Estella turned at the doorway and nodded. 'Yes,' she said again. + +'Then take it with you, and a cloak, but no heavy luggage.' + +Estella closed the door. + +'You can come with us?' said the General to Concha, half command, +half interrogation. + +'If you wish it.' + +'You may be wanted. I have a plan--a little plan,' and he gave a +short laugh. 'It may succeed.' + +He went to a side table, where some cold meats still stood, and, +taking up a small chicken daintily with a fork, he folded it in a +napkin. + +'It will be Saturday,' he said simply, 'before we have reached our +journey's end, and you will be hungry. Have you a pocket?' + +'Has a priest a pocket?' asked Concha, with a grim humour, and he +slipped the provisions into the folds of his cassock. He was still +eating a biscuit hurriedly. + +'I believe you have no money?' said the General suddenly. + +'I have only enough,' admitted the old man, 'to take me back to +Ronda; whither, by the way, my duty calls me.' + +'I think not. Your Master can spare you for a while; my mistress +cannot do without you.' + +At this moment Estella came back into the room ready for her +journey. The girl had changed of late. Her face had lost a little +roundness and had gained exceedingly in expression. Her eyes, too, +were different. That change had come to them which comes to all +women between the ages of twenty and thirty, quite irrespective of +their state. A certain restlessness, or a quiet content, are what +one usually sees in a woman's face. Estella's eyes wore that latter +look, which seems to indicate a knowledge of the meaning of life and +a contentment that it should be no different. + +Vincente was writing at the table. + +'We shall want help,' he said, without looking up. 'I am sending +for a good man.' + +And he smiled as he shook the small sand-castor over the paper. + +'May one ask,' said Concha, 'where we are going?' + +'We are going to Ciudad Real, my dear friend, since you are so +curious. But we shall come back--we shall come back.' + +He was writing another despatch as he spoke, and at a sign from him +Estella went to the door and clapped her hands, the only method of +summoning a servant in general use at that time in Spain. The call +was answered by an orderly, who stood at attention in the doorway +for a full five minutes while the General wrote further orders in +his neat, small calligraphy. There were half a dozen letters in +all--curt military despatches without preamble and without mercy. +For this soldier conducted military matters in a singularly domestic +way, planning his campaigns by the fireside and bringing about the +downfall of an enemy while sitting in his daughter's drawing-room. +Indeed, Estella's blotting-book bore the impress of more than one +death warrant or an order as good as such, written casually on her +stationery and with her pen. + +'Will you have the goodness to despatch these at once?' was the +message taken by the orderly to the General's aide-de-camp, and the +gallopers, who were always in readiness, smiled as they heard the +modest request. + +'It will be pleasant to travel in the cool of the evening, provided +that one guards against a chill,' said the General, making his final +preparations. 'I require but a moment to speak to my faithful aide- +de-camp, and then we embark.' + +The moon was rising as the carriage rattled across the Bridge of +Alcantara, and Larralde, taking the air between Wamba's Gate and the +little fort that guards the entrance to the city, recognised the +equipage as it passed him. He saw also the outline of Concha's +figure in the darkest corner of the carriage, with his back to the +horses, his head bowed in meditation. Estella he saw and +recognised, while two mounted attendants clattering in the rear of +the carriage testified by their presence to the fact that the +General had taken the road again. + +'It is well,' said Larralde to himself. 'They are all going back to +Ronda, and Julia will be rid of their influence. Ronda will serve +as well as Toledo so far as Vincente is concerned. But I will wait +to make sure that they are not losing sight of him.' + +So Senor Larralde, cloaked to the eyebrows, leant gracefully against +the wall, and, like many another upon the bridge after that +breathless day, drank in the cool air that rose from the river. +Presently--indeed, before the sound of the distant wheels was quite +lost--two horsemen, cloaked and provided with such light luggage as +the saddle can accommodate, rode leisurely through the gateway and +up the incline that makes a short cut to the great road running +southward to Ciudad Real. Larralde gave a little nod of self- +confidence and satisfaction, as one who, having conceived and built +up a great scheme, is pleased to see each component part of it act +independently, and slip into its place. + +The General's first thought was for Estella's comfort, and he +utilised the long hill which they had to ascend on leaving the town +to make such arrangements as space would allow for their common +ease. + +'You must sleep, my child,' he said. 'We cannot hope to reach +Ciudad Real before midday to-morrow, and it is as likely as not that +we shall have but a few hours' rest there.' + +And Estella, who had travelled vast distances over vile roads so +long as her memory went back, who had never known what it is to live +in a country that is at peace, leant back in her corner and closed +her eyes. Had she really been disposed to sleep, however, she could +scarcely have done it, for the General's solicitude manifested +itself by a hundred little devices for her greater repose. For her +comfort he made Concha move. + +'An old traveller like you must shift for yourself,' he said gaily. + +'No need to seek shelter for an old ox,' replied Concha, moving into +the other corner, where he carefully unfolded his pocket- +handkerchief and laid it over his face, where his long nose, +protruding, caused it to fall into fantastic folds. He clasped his +hands upon his hat, which lay on his knee, and, leaning back, +presently began to snore gently and regularly--a peaceful, sleep- +inducing sound, and an excellent example. The General, whose sword +seemed to take up half the carriage, still watched Estella, and if +the air made her mantilla flutter, drew up the window with the +solicitude of a lover and a maternal noiselessness. Then, with one +hand on hers, and the other grasping his sword, he leant back, but +did not close his eyes. + +Thus they travelled on through the luminous night. The roads were +neither worse nor better than they are to-day in Spain--than they +were in England in the Middle Ages--and their way lay over the hill +ranges that lie between the watersheds of the Tagus and the +Guadiana. At times they passed through well-tended valleys, where +corn and olives and vines seemed to grow on the same soil, but for +the greater part of the night they ascended and descended the upper +slopes, where herds of goats, half awakened as they slept in a ring +about their guardian, looked at them with startled eyes. The +shepherds and goatherds, who, like those of old, lay cloaked upon +the ground, and tended their flocks by night, did not trouble to +raise their heads. + +Concha alone slept, for the General had a thousand thoughts that +kept him awake and bright-eyed, while Estella knew from her father's +manner and restlessness that these were no small events that now +stirred Spain, and seemed to close men's mouths, so that near +friends distrusted one another, and brother was divided against +brother. Indeed, others were on the road that night, and horsemen +passed the heavy carriage from time to time. + +In the early morning a change of horses was effected at a large inn +near the summit of a pass above Malagon, and here an orderly, who +seemed to recognise the General, was climbing into the saddle as the +Vincentes quitted their carriage and passed into the common room of +the venta for a hasty cup of coffee. + +'It is the Queen's courier,' said the innkeeper grandly, 'who takes +the road before her Majesty in order to secure horses.' + +'Ah,' said the General, breaking his bread and dropping it into his +cup. 'Is that so? The Queen Regent, you mean?' + +'Queen or Queen Regent, she requires four horses this evening, +Excellency--that is all my concern.' + +'True, my friend; true. That is well said. And the horses will be +forthcoming, no doubt.' + +'They will be forthcoming,' said the man. 'And the Excellency's +carriage is ready.' + +In the early morning light they drove on, now descending towards the +great valley of the Guadiana, and at midday, as Vincente had +foreseen, gained a sight of the ancient city of Ciudad Real lying +amid trees below them. Ciudad Real is less interesting than its +name, and there is little that is royal about its dirty streets and +ill-kept houses. No one gave great heed to the travelling-carriage, +for this is a great centre where travellers journeying east or west, +north or south, must needs pause for a change of horses. At the inn +there were vacant rooms, and that hasty welcome accorded to the +traveller at wayside houses where none stay longer than they can +help. + +'No,' said the landlord, in answer to the General's query. 'We are +not busy, though we expect a lady who will pass the hour of the +siesta here and then proceed northward.' + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. WOMANCRAFT. + + + +'Il est rare que la tete des rois soit faite a la mesure de leur +couronne.' + +In the best room of the inn where Vincente and his tired companions +sought a few hours' rest there sat alone, and in thought, a woman of +middle age. Somewhat stout, she yet had that air which arouses the +attention without being worthy of the name of beauty. This lady had +doubtless swayed men's hearts by a word or a glance, for she still +carried herself with assurance, and a hundred little details of her +dress would have told another woman that she still desired to +please. She wore a white mantilla. + +The hour of the siesta was over, and after the great heat of the day +a cool air was swinging down on the bosom of the river to the +parched lowlands. It stirred the leaves of a climbing heliotrope +which encircled the open windows, and wafted into the ill-furnished +room a scent of stable-yard and dust. + +The lady, sitting with her chin resting in the palm of her small +white hand, seemed to have lately roused herself from sleep, and now +had the expectant air of one who awaits a carriage and is about to +set out on a long journey. Her eyes were dark and tired-looking, +and their expression was not that of a good woman. A sensual man is +usually weak, but women are different; and this face, with its faded +complexion and tired eyes, this woman of the majestic presence and +beautiful hands, was both strong and sensual. This, in a word, was +a Queen who never forgot that she was a woman. As it was said of +the Princess Christina, so it has been spoken of the Queen, that +many had killed themselves for hopeless love of her. For this was +the most dangerous of the world's creatures--a royal coquette. Such +would our own Queen Bess have been had not God, for the good of +England, given her a plain face and an ungainly form. For surely +the devil is in it when a woman can command both love and men. +Queen Christina, since the death of a husband who was years older +than herself (and, as some say, before that historic event), had +played a woman's game with that skill which men only half recognise, +and had played it with the additional incentive that behind her +insatiable vanity lay the heavier stake of a crown. + +She was not the first to turn the strong current of man's passion to +her own deliberate gain--nay, ninety-nine out of a hundred women do +it. But the majority only play for a suburban villa and a few +hundred pounds a year; Queen Christina of Spain handled her cards +for a throne and the continuance of an ill-starred dynasty. + +As she sat in the hotel chamber in Ciudad Real--that forlornest of +royal cities--her face wore the pettish look of one who, having +passed through great events, having tasted of great passions and +moved amid the machinery of life and death, finds the ordinary +routine of existence intolerably irksome. Many faces wear such a +look in this country; every second beautiful face in London has it. +And these women--heaven help them--find the morning hours dull, +because every afternoon has not its great event and every evening +the excitement of a social function. + +The Queen was travelling incognita, and that fact alone robbed her +progress of a sense of excitement. She had to do without the shout +of the multitude--the passing admiration of the man in the street. +She knew that she was yet many hours removed from Madrid, where she +had admirers, and the next best possession--enemies. Ciudad Real +was intolerably dull and provincial. A servant knocked at the door. + +'General Vincente, your Majesty, craves the favour of a moment.' + +'Ah!' exclaimed the Queen, the light returning to her eyes, a faint +colour flushing her cheek. 'In five minutes I will receive him.' + +And there is no need to say how the Queen spent those minutes. + +'Your Majesty,' said the General, bending over her hand, which he +touched with his lips, 'I have news of the greatest importance.' + +The suggestion of a scornful smile flickered for a moment in the +royal eyes. It was surely news enough for any man that she was a +woman--beautiful still--possessing still that intangible and fatal +gift of pleasing. The woman slowly faded from her eyes as they +rested on the great soldier's face, and the Queen it was who, with a +gracious gesture, bade him be seated. But the General remained +standing. He alone perhaps of all the men who had to deal with her- +-of all those military puppets with whom she played her royal game-- +had never crossed that vague boundary which many had overstepped to +their own inevitable undoing. + +'It concerns your Majesty's life,' said Vincente bluntly, and calm +in the certainty of his own theory that good blood, whether it flow +in the veins of man or woman, assuredly carries a high courage. + +'Ah!' said the Queen Regent, whose humour still inclined towards +those affairs which interested her before the affairs of State. +'But with men such as you about me, my dear General, what need I +fear?' + +'Treachery, Madame,' he answered, with his sudden smile and a bow. +'Treachery.' + +She frowned. When a Queen stoops to dalliance a subject must not be +too practical. + +'Ah! What is it that concerns my life? Another plot?' she inquired +shortly. + +'Another plot, but one of greater importance than those that exist +in the republican cafes of every town in your Majesty's kingdom. +This is a widespread conspiracy, and I fear that many powerful +persons are concerned in it; but that, your Majesty, is not my +department nor concern.' + +'What is your concern, General?' she asked, looking at him over her +fan. + +'To save your Majesty's life to-night.' + +'To-night!' she echoed, her coquetry gone. + +'To-night.' + +'But how and where?' + +'Assassination, Madame, in Toledo. You are three hours late in your +journey. But all Toledo will be astir awaiting you, though it be +till dawn.' + +The Queen Regent closed her fan slowly. She was, as the rapid +events of her reign and regency have proved, one of those women who +rise to the occasion. + +'Then one must act at once,' she said. + +The General bowed. + +'What have you done?' she asked. + +'I have sent to Madrid for a regiment that I know; they are as my +own children. I have killed so many of them that the remainder love +me. I have travelled from Toledo to meet your Majesty on the road, +or here.' + +'And what means have you of preventing this thing?' + +'I have brought the means with me, Madame.' + +'Troops?' asked the Queen doubtfully, knowing where the canker-worm +lay hidden. + +'A woman and a priest, Madame.' + +'And--' + +'And I propose that your Majesty journey to Madrid in my carriage, +attended only by my orderlies, by way of Aranjuez. You will be safe +in Madrid, where the Queen will require her mother's care.' + +'Yes. And the remainder of your plan?' + +'I will travel back to Toledo in your Majesty's carriage with the +woman and the priest and your bodyguard--just as your Majesty is in +the habit of travelling. Toledo wants a fight; nothing else will +satisfy them. They shall have it--before dawn. The very best I +have to offer them.' + +And General Vincente gave a queer, cheery little laugh, as if he +were arranging a practical joke. + +'But the fight will be round my carriage--' + +'Possibly. I would rather that it took place in the Calle de la +Ciudad, or around the Casa del Ayuntamiento, where your Majesty is +expected to sleep to-night.' + +'And these persons--this woman who risks her life to save mine--who +is she?' + +'My daughter,' answered the General gravely. + +'She is here--in the hotel now?' + +The General bowed. + +'I have heard that she is beautiful,' said the Queen, with a quick +glance towards her companion. 'How is it that you have never +brought her to Court, you who come so seldom yourself?' + +Vincente made no reply. + +'However, bring her to me now.' + +'She has travelled far, Madame, and is not prepared for presentation +to her Queen.' + +'This is no time for formalities. She is about to run a great risk +for my sake, a greater risk than I could ever ask her to run. +Present her as one woman to another, General.' + +But General Vincente bowed gravely and made no reply. The colour +slowly rose to the Queen Regent's face--a dull red. She opened her +fan, closed it again, and sat with furtive downcast eyes. Suddenly +she looked up and met his gaze. + +'You refuse,' she said, with an insolent air of indifference. 'You +think that I am unworthy to--meet your daughter.' + +'I think only of the exigency of the moment,' was his reply. 'Every +minute we lose is a gain to our enemies. If our trick is discovered +Aranjuez will be no safer for your Majesty than is Toledo. You must +be safely in Madrid before it is discovered in Toledo that you have +taken the other route, and that the person they have mistaken for +you is in reality my daughter.' + +'But she may be killed,' exclaimed the Queen. + +'We may all be killed, Madame,' he replied lightly. 'I beg that you +will start at once in my carriage with your chaplain and the holy +lady who is doubtless travelling with you.' + +The Queen glanced sharply at him. It was known that although her +own life was anything but exemplary, she loved to associate with +women who, under the cloak of religion and an austere virtue, +intrigued with all parties and condoned the Queen's offences. + +'I cannot understand you,' she said, with that sudden lapse into +familiarity which had led to the undoing of more than one ambitious +courtier. 'You seem to worship the crown and despise the head it +rests on.' + +'So long as I serve your Majesty faithfully--' + +'But you have no right to despise me,' she interrupted passionately. + +'If I despised you, should I be here now--should I be doing you this +service?' + +'I do not know. I tell you I do not understand you.' + +And the Queen looked hard at the man who, for this very reason, +interested one who had all her life dealt and intrigued with men of +obvious motive and unblushing ambition. + +So strong is a ruling passion that even in sight of death (for the +Queen Regent knew that Spain was full of her enemies and rendered +callous to bloodshed by a long war) vanity was alert in this woman's +breast. Even while General Vincente, that unrivalled strategist, +detailed his plans, she kept harking back to the question that +puzzled her, and but half listened to his instructions. + +Those desirous of travelling without attracting attention in Spain +are wise to time their arrival and departure for the afternoon. At +this time, while the sun is yet hot, all shutters are closed, and +the business of life, the haggling in the market-place, the bustle +of the barrack yard, the leisurely labour of the fields, are +suspended. It was about four o'clock--indeed, the city clocks were +striking that hour--when the two carriages in the inn yard at Ciudad +Real were made ready for the road. Father Concha, who never took an +active part in passing incidents while his old friend and comrade +was near, sat in a shady corner of the patio and smoked a cigarette. +An affable ostler had in vain endeavoured to engage him in +conversation. Two small children had begged of him, and now he was +left in meditative solitude. + +'In a short three minutes,' said the ostler, 'and the Excellencies +can then depart. In which direction, reverendo, if one may ask?' + +'One may always ask, my friend,' replied the priest. 'Indeed, the +holy books are of opinion that it cannot be overdone. That chin +strap is too tight.' + +'Ah, I see the reverendo knows a horse.' + +'And an ass,' added Concha. + +At this moment the General emerged from the shadow of the staircase, +which was open and of stone. He was followed by Estella, as it +would appear, and they hurried across the sunlighted patio, the girl +carrying her fan to screen her face. + +'Are you rested, my child?' asked Concha at the carriage door. + +The lady lowered the fan for a moment and met his eyes. A quick +look of surprise flashed across Concha's face and he half bowed. +Then he repeated his question in a louder voice: + +'Are you rested, my child, after our long journey?' + +'Thank you, my father, yes.' + +And the ostler watched with open-mouthed interest. + +The other carriage had been drawn up to that side of the courtyard +where the open stairway was, and here also the bustle of departure +and a hurrying female form, anxious to gain the shade of the +vehicle, were discernible. It was all done so quickly, with such a +military completeness of detail, that the carriages had passed +through the great doorway and the troopers--merely a general's +escort--had clattered after them before the few onlookers had fully +realised that these were surely travellers of some note. + +The ostler hurried to the street to watch them go. + +'They are going to the north,' he said to himself, as he saw the +carriages turn in the direction of the river and the ancient Puerta +de Toledo. 'They go to the north--and assuredly the General has +come to conduct her to Toledo.' + +Strange to say, although it was the hour of rest, many shutters in +the narrow street were open, and more than one peeping face was +turned towards the departing carriages. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. A NIGHT JOURNEY. + + + +'Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.' + +At the cross-roads on the northern side of the river the two +carriages parted company, the dusty equipage of General Vincente +taking the road to Aranjuez that leads to the right and mounts +steadily through olive groves. The other carriage--which, despite +its plain and sombre colours, still had an air of grandeur and +almost of royalty, with its great wheels and curved springs--turned +to the left and headed for Toledo. Behind it clattered a dozen +troopers, picked men, with huge swinging swords and travel-stained +clothes. The dust rose in a cloud under the horses' feet and +hovered in the sullen air. There was no breath of wind, and the sun +shone through a faint haze which seemed only to add to the heat. + +Concha lowered the window and thrust forward his long inquiring +nose. + +'What is it?' asked the General. + +'Thunder--I smell it. We shall have a storm to-night.' He looked +out mopping his brow. 'Name of a saint! how thick the air is.' + +'It will be clear before the morning,' said Vincente the optimist. + +And the carriage rattled on towards the city of strife, where Jew, +Goth and Roman, Moor and Inquisitor, have all had their day. +Estella was silent, drooping with fatigue. The General alone seemed +unmoved and heedless of the heat--a man of steel, as bright and +ready as his own sword. + +There is no civilised country in the world so bare as Spain, and no +part of the Peninsula so sparsely populated as the Castiles. The +road ran for the most part over brown and barren uplands, with here +and there a valley where wheat and olives and vineyards graced the +lower slopes. The crying need of all nature was for shade; for the +ilex is a small-leaved tree giving a thin shadow with no cool depths +amid the branches. All was brown and barren and parched. The earth +seemed to lie fainting and awaiting the rain. The horses trotted +with extended necks and open mouths, their coats wet with sweat. +The driver--an Andalusian, with a face like a Moorish pirate--kept +encouraging them with word and rein, jerking and whipping only when +they seemed likely to fall from sheer fatigue and sun-weariness. At +last the sun began to set in a glow like that of a great furnace, +and the reflection lay over the land in ruddy splendour. + +'Ah!' said Concha, looking out, 'it will be a great storm--and it +will soon come.' + +Vast columns of cloud were climbing up from the sunset into a sullen +sky, thrown up in spreading mares' tails by a hundred contrary gusts +of wind, as if there were explosive matter in the great furnace of +the west. + +'Nature is always on my side,' said Vincente, with his chuckling +laugh. He sat, watch in hand, noting the passage of the kilometres. + +At last the sun went down behind a distant line of hill--the +watershed of the Tagus--and immediately the air was cool. Without +stopping, the driver wrapped his cloak round him, and the troopers +followed his example. A few minutes later a cold breeze sprung up +suddenly, coming from the north and swirling the dust high in the +air. + +'It is well,' said Vincente, who assuredly saw good in everything; +'the wind comes first, and therefore the storm will be short.' + +As he spoke the thunder rolled among the hills. + +'It is almost like guns,' he added, with a queer look in his eyes +suggestive of some memory. + +Then, preceded by a rushing wind, the rain came, turning to hail, +and stopping suddenly in a breathless pause, only to recommence with +a renewed and splashing vigour. Concha drew up the windows, and the +water streamed down them in a continuous ripple. Estella, who had +been sleeping, roused herself. She looked fresh, and her eyes were +bright with excitement. She had brought home with her from her +English school that air of freshness and a dainty vigour which makes +Englishwomen different from all other women in the world, and an +English schoolgirl one of the brightest, purest, and sweetest of +God's creatures. + +Concha looked at her with his grim smile--amused at a youthfulness +which could enable her to fall asleep at such a time and wake up so +manifestly refreshed. + +A halt was made at a roadside venta, where the travellers partook of +a hurried meal. Darkness came on before the horses were +sufficiently rested, and by the light of an ill-smelling lamp the +General had his inevitable cup of coffee. The rain had now ceased, +but the sky remained overcast and the night was a dark one. The +travellers took their places in the carriage, and again the monotony +of the road, the steady trot of the horses, the sing-song words of +encouragement of their driver, monopolised the thoughts of sleepy +minds. It seemed to Estella that life was all journeys, and that +she had been on the road for years. The swing of the carriage, the +little varieties of the road, but served to add to her somnolence. +She only half woke up when, about ten o'clock, a halt was made to +change horses, and the General quitted the carriage for a few +minutes to talk earnestly with two horsemen, who were apparently +awaiting their arrival. No time was lost here, and the carriage +went forward with an increased escort. The two new-comers rode by +the carriage, one on either side. + +When Estella woke up, the moon had risen and the carriage was making +slow progress up a long hill. She noticed that a horseman was on +either side, close by the carriage window. + +'Who is that?' she asked. + +'Conyngham,' replied the General. + +'You sent for him?' inquired Estella, in a hard voice. + +'Yes.' + +Estella was wakeful enough now, and sat upright, looking straight in +front of her. At times she glanced towards the window, which was +now open, where the head of Conyngham's charger appeared. The horse +trotted steadily, with a queer jerk of the head and that willingness +to do his best which gains for horses a place in the hearts of all +who have to do with them. + +'Will there be fighting?' asked Estella suddenly. + +The General shrugged his shoulders. + +'One cannot call it fighting. There may be a disturbance in the +streets,' he answered. + +Concha, quiet in his corner, with his back to the horses, watched +the girl, and saw that her eyes were wide with anxiety now--quite +suddenly. She, who had never thought of fear till this moment. She +moved uneasily in her seat, fidgeting as the young ever do when +troubled. It is only with years that we learn to bear a burden +quietly. + +'Who is that?' she asked shortly, pointing to the other window, +which was closed. + +'Concepcion Vara--Conyngham's servant,' replied the General, who for +some reason was inclined to curtness in his speech. + +They were approaching Toledo, and passed through a village from time +to time, where the cafes were still lighted up, and people seemed to +be astir in the shadow of the houses. At last, in the main +thoroughfare of a larger village within a stage of Toledo, a final +halt was made to change horses. The street, dimly lighted by a +couple of oil lamps swinging from gibbets at the corners of a +crossroad, seemed to be peopled by shadows surreptitiously lurking +in doorways. There was a false air of quiet in the houses, and +peeping eyes looked out from behind the bars that covered every +window, for even modern Spanish houses are barred as if for a siege, +and in the ancient villages every man's house is indeed his castle. + +The driver had left the box, and seemed to be having some trouble +with the ostlers and stable-helps; for his voice could be heard +raised in anger and urging them to greater haste. + +Conyngham, motionless in the saddle, touched his horse with his +heel, advancing a few paces so as to screen the window. Concepcion, +on the other side, did the same, so that the travellers in the +interior of the vehicle saw but the dark shape of the horses and the +long cloaks of their riders. They could perceive Conyngham quickly +throw back his cape in order to have a free hand. Then there came +the sound of scuffling feet and an indefinable sense of strife in +the very air. + +'But we will see--we will see who is in the carriage!' cried a +shrill voice, and a hoarse shout from many bibulous throats +confirmed the desire. + +'Quick!' said Conyngham's voice. 'Quick--take your reins--never +mind the lamps.' + +And the carriage swayed as the man leapt to his place. Estella made +a movement to look out of the window, but Concha had stood up +against it, opposing his broad back alike to curious glances or a +knife or a bullet. At the other window the General, better versed +in such matters, held the leather cushion upon which he had been +sitting across the sash. With his left hand he restrained Estella. + +'Keep still,' he said. 'Sit back. Conyngham can take care of +himself.' + +The carriage swayed forward, and a volley of stones rattled on it +like hail. It rose jerkily on one side, and bumped over some +obstacle. + +'One who has his quietus,' said Concha; 'these royal carriages are +heavy.' + +The horses were galloping now. Concha sat down rubbing his back. +Conyngham was galloping by the window, and they could see his spur +flashing in the moonlight as he used it. The reins hung loose, and +both his hands were employed elsewhere, for he had a man half across +the saddle in front of him, who held to him with one arm thrown +round his neck, while the other was raised and a gleam of steel was +at the end of it. Concepcion, from the other side, threw a knife +over the roof of the carriage--he could hit a cork at twenty paces +but he missed this time. + +The General, from within, leant across Estella, sword in hand, with +gleaming eyes. But Conyngham seemed to have got the hold he +desired, for his assailant came suddenly swinging over the horse's +neck, and one of his flying heels crashed through the window by +Concha's head, making that ecclesiastic swear like any layman. The +carriage was lifted on one side again, and bumped heavily. + +'Another,' said Concha, looking for broken glass in the folds of his +cassock. 'That is a pretty trick of Conyngham's.' + +'And the man is a horseman,' added the General, sheathing his sword- +-'a horseman. It warms the heart to see it.' + +Then he leant out of the window and asked if any were hurt. + +'I am afraid, Excellency, that I hurt one,' answered Vara. 'Where +the neck joins the shoulder. It is a pretty spot for the knife-- +nothing to turn a point.' + +He rubbed a sulphur match on the leg of his trouser, and lighted a +cigarette as he rode along. + +'On our side no accidents,' continued Vara, with a careless +grandeur, 'unless the reverendo received a kick in the face.' + +'The reverendo received a stone in the small of the back,' growled +Concha pessimistically, 'where there was already a corner of +lumbago.' + +Conyngham, standing in his stirrups, was looking back. A man lay +motionless on the road, and beyond, at the cross-roads, another was +riding up a hill to the right at a hand gallop. + +'It is the road to Madrid,' said Concepcion, noting the direction of +the Englishman's glance. + +The General, leaning out of the carriage window, was also looking +back anxiously. + +'They have sent a messenger to Madrid, Excellency, with the news +that the Queen is on the road to Toledo,' said Concepcion. + +'It is well,' answered Vincente, with a laugh. + +As they journeyed, although it was nearly midnight, there appeared +from time to time, and for the most part in the neighbourhood of a +village, one who seemed to have been awaiting their passage, and +immediately set out on foot or horseback by one of the shorter +bridle-paths that abound in Spain. No one of these spies escaped +the notice of Concepcion, whose training amid the mountains of +Andalusia had sharpened his eyesight and added keenness to every +sense. + +'It is like a cat walking down an alley full of dogs,' he muttered. + +At last the lights of Toledo hove in sight, and across the river +came the sound of the city clocks tolling the hour. + +'Midnight,' said Concha. 'And all respectable folk are in their +beds. At night all cats are grey.' + +No one heeded him. Estella was sitting upright, bright-eyed and +wakeful. The General looked out of the window at every moment. +Across the river they could see lights moving, and many houses that +had been illuminated were suddenly dark. + +'See,' said the General, leaning out of the window and speaking to +Conyngham, 'they have heard the sound of our wheels.' + +At the farther end of the Bridge of Alcantara, on the road which now +leads to the railway station, two horsemen were stationed, hidden in +the shadow of the trees that border the pathway. + +'Those should be Guardias Civiles,' said Concepcion, who had studied +the ways of those gentry all his life. 'But they are not. They +have horses that have never been taught to stand still.' + +As he spoke the men vanished, moving noiselessly in the thick dust +which lay on the Madrid road. + +The General saw them go--and smiled. These men carried word to +their fellows in Madrid for the seizure of the little Queen. But +before they could reach the capital the Queen Regent herself would +be there--a woman in a thousand, of inflexible nerve, of infinite +resource. + +The carriage rattled over the narrow bridge which rings hollow to +the sound of wheels. It passed under the gate that Wamba built and +up the tree-girt incline to the city. The streets were deserted, +and no window showed a light. A watchman in his shelter, at the +corner by the synagogue, peered at them over the folds of his cloak, +and noting the clank of scabbard against spur, paid no further heed +to a traveller who took the road with such outward signs of +authority. + +'It is still enough--and quiet,' said Concha, looking out. + +'As quiet as a watching cat,' replied Vincente. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CITY OF STRIFE. + + + + 'What lot is mine + Whose foresight preaches peace, my heart so slow + To feel it!' + +Through these quiet streets the party clattered noisily enough, for +the rain had left the rounded stones slippery, and the horses were +too tired for a sure step. There were no lights at the street +corners, for all had been extinguished at midnight, and the only +glimmer of a lamp that relieved the darkness was shining through the +stained-glass windows of the Cathedral, where the sacred oil burnt +night and day. + +The Queen was evidently expected at the Casa del Ayuntamiento, for +at the approach of the carriage the great doors were thrown open and +a number of servants appeared in the patio, which was but dimly +lighted. By the General's orders the small body-guard passed +through the doors, which were then closed, instead of continuing +their way to the barracks in the Alcazar. + +This Casa del Ayuntamiento stands, as many travellers know, in the +Plaza of the same name, and faces the Cathedral, which is without +doubt the oldest, as it assuredly is the most beautiful, church in +the world. The mansion-house of Toledo, in addition to some +palatial halls which are of historic renown, has several suites of +rooms used from time to time by great personages passing through or +visiting the city. The house itself is old, as we esteem age in +England, while in comparison to the buildings around it it is +modern. Built, however, at a period when beauty of architecture was +secondary to power of resistance, the palace is strong enough, and +General Vincente smiled happily as the great doors were closed. He +was the last to look out into the streets and across the little +Plaza del Ayuntamiento, which was deserted and looked peaceful +enough in the light of a waning moon. + +The carriage door was opened by a lacquey, and Conyngham gave +Estella his hand. All the servants bowed as she passed up the +stairs, her face screened by the folds of her white mantilla. There +was a queer hush in this great house, and in the manner of the +servants. The cathedral clock rang out the half-hour. The General +led the way to the room on the first floor that overlooks the Plaza +del Ayuntamiento. It is a vast apartment, hung with tapestries and +pictures such as men travel many miles to see. The windows, which +are large in proportion to the height of the room, open upon a stone +balcony, which runs the length of the house and looks down upon the +Plaza and across this to the great facade of the Cathedral. +Candles, hurriedly lighted, made the room into a very desert of +shadows. At the far end, a table was spread with cold meats and +lighted by high silver candelabra. + +'Ah!' said Concha, going towards the supper-table. + +Estella turned, and for the first time met Conyngham's eyes. His +face startled her. It was so grave. + +'Were you hurt?' she asked sharply. + +'Not this time, senorita.' + +Then she turned with a sudden laugh towards her father. 'Did I play +my part well?' she asked. + +'Yes, my child.' And even he was grave. + +'Unless I am mistaken,' he continued, glancing at the shuttered +windows, 'we have only begun our task.' He was reading, as he +spoke, some despatches which a servant had handed to him. + +'There is one advantage in a soldier's life,' he said, smiling at +Conyngham, 'which is not, I think, sufficiently recognised--namely, +that one's duty is so often clearly defined. At the present moment +it is a question of keeping up the deception we have practised upon +these good people of Toledo sufficiently long to enable the Queen +Regent to reach Madrid. In order to make certain of this we must +lead the people to understand that the Queen is in this house until, +at least, daylight. Given so much advantage, I think that her +Majesty can reach the capital an hour before any messenger from +Toledo. Two horsemen quitted the Bridge of Alcantara as we crossed +it, riding towards Madrid; but they will not reach the capital--I +have seen to that.' + +He paused and walked to one of the long windows, which he opened. +The outer shutters remained closed, and he did not unbar them, but +stood listening. + +'All is still as yet,' he said, returning to the table, where Father +Concha was philosophically cutting up a cold chicken. 'That is a +good idea of yours,' he said. 'We may all require our full forces +of mind and body before the dawn.' + +He drew forward a chair, and Estella, obeying his gesture, sat down +and so far controlled her feelings as to eat a little. + +'Do queens always feed on old birds such as this?' asked Concha +discontentedly; and Vincente, spreading out his napkin, laughed with +gay good humour. + +'Before the dawn,' he said to Conyngham, 'we may all be great men, +and the good Concha here on the high road to a bishopric.' + +'He would rather be in bed,' muttered the priest, with his mouth +full. + +It was a queer scene, such as we only act in real life. The vast +room, with its gorgeous hangings, the flickering candles, the table +spread with delicacies, and the strange party seated at it--Concha +eating steadily, the General looking round with his domesticated +little smile, Estella with a new light in her eyes and a new +happiness on her face, Conyngham, a giant among these southerners, +in his dust-laden uniform--all made up a picture that none forgot. + +'They will probably attack this place,' said the General, pouring +out a glass of wine; 'but the house is a strong one. I cannot rely +on the regiments stationed at Toledo, and have sent to Madrid for +cavalry. There is nothing like cavalry--in the streets. We can +stand a siege--till the dawn.' + +He turned, looking over his shoulder towards the door; for he had +heard a footstep unnoticed by the others. It was Concepcion Vara +who came into the room, coatless, his face grey with dust, adding a +startling and picturesque incongruity to the scene. + +'Pardon, Excellency,' he said, with that easy grasp of the situation +which always made an utterly unabashed smuggler of him, 'but there +is one in the house whom I think his Excellency should speak with.' + +'Ah!' + +'The Senorita Barenna.' + +The General rose from the table. + +'How did she get in here?' he asked sharply. + +'By the side door in the Calle de la Ciudad. The keeper of that +door, Excellency, is a mule. The senorita forced him to admit her. +The sex can do so much,' he added, with a tolerant shrug of the +shoulders. + +'And the other--this Larralde?' + +Concepcion raised his hand with outspread fingers, and shook it +slowly from side to side from the wrist, with the palm turned +towards his interlocutor--a gesture which seemed to indicate that +the subject was an unpleasant, almost an indelicate, one. + +'Larralde, Excellency,' he said, 'is one of those who are never +found at the front. He will not be in Toledo to-night--that +Larralde.' + +'Where is the Senorita Barenna?' asked the General. + +'She is downstairs--commanding his Excellency's soldiers to let her +pass.' + +'You go down, my friend, and bring her here. Then take that door +yourself.' + +Concepcion bowed ceremoniously and withdrew. He might have been an +ambassador, and his salutation was worthy of an Imperial Court. + +A moment later Julia Barenna came into the room, her dark eyes wide +with terror, her face pale and drawn. + +'Where is the Queen Regent?' she asked, looking from one face to the +other, and seeing all her foes assembled as if by magic before her. + +'Her Majesty is on the road between Aranjuez and Madrid--in safety, +my dear Julia,' replied the General soothingly. + +'But they think she is here. The people are in the streets. Look +out of the window. They are in the Plaza.' + +'I know it, my dear,' said the General. + +'They are armed--they are going to attack this house.' + +'I am aware of it.' + +'Their plan is to murder the Queen.' + +'So we understand,' said the General gently. He had a horror of +anything approaching sensation or a scene, a feeling which Spaniards +share with Englishmen. 'That is the Queen for the time being,' +added Vincente, pointing to Estella. + +Julia stood looking from one to the other--a self-contained woman +made strong by love. For there is nothing in life or human +experience that raises and strengthens man or woman so much as a +great and abiding love. But Julia Barenna was driven and almost +panic-stricken. She held herself in control by an effort that was +drawing lines in her face never to be wiped out. + +'But you will tell them? I will do it. Let me go to them. I am +not afraid.' + +'No one must leave this house now,' said the General. 'You have +come to us, my dear, you must now throw in your lot with ours.' + +'But Estella must not take this risk,' exclaimed Julia. 'Let me do +it.' + +And some woman's instinct sent her to Estella's side--two women +alone in that great house amid this man's work, this strife of +reckless politicians. + +'And you, and Senor Conyngham,' she cried, 'you must not run this +great risk.' + +'It is what we are paid for, my dear Julia,' answered the General, +holding out his arm and indicating the gold stripes upon it. + +He walked to the window and opened the massive shutters, which swung +back heavily. Then he stepped out on to the balcony without fear or +hesitation. + +'See,' he said, 'the square is full of them.' + +He came back into the room, and Conyngham, standing beside him, +looked down into the moonlit Plaza. The square was, indeed, +thronged with dark and silent shadows, while others, stealing from +the doorways and narrow alleys with which Toledo abounds, joined the +groups with stealthy steps. No one spoke, though the sound of their +whispering arose in the still night air like the murmur of a breeze +through reeds. A hundred faces peered upwards through the darkness +at the two intrepid figures on the balcony. + +'And these are Spaniards, my dear Conyngham,' whispered the General. +'A hundred of them against one woman. Name of God! I blush for +them.' + +The throng increased every moment, and withal the silence never +lifted, but brooded breathlessly over the ancient town. Instead of +living men, these might well have been the shades of the countless +and forgotten dead who had come to a violent end in the streets of a +city where Peace has never found a home since the days of +Nebuchadnezzar. Vincente came back into the room, leaving shutter +and window open. + +'They cannot see in,' he said, 'the building is too high. And +across the Plaza there is nothing but the Cathedral, which has no +windows accessible without ladders.' + +He paused, looking at his watch. + +'They are in doubt,' he said, speaking to Conyngham. 'They are not +sure that the Queen is here. We will keep them in doubt for a short +time. Every minute lost by them is an inestimable gain to us. That +open window will whet their curiosity, and give them something to +whisper about. It is so easy to deceive a crowd.' + +He sat down and began to peel a peach. Julia looked at him, +wondering wherein this man's greatness lay, and yet perceiving dimly +that, against such as he, men like Esteban Larralde could do +nothing. + +Concha, having supped satisfactorily, was now sitting back in his +chair seeking for something in the pockets of his cassock. + +'It is to be presumed,' he said, 'that one may smoke--even in a +palace.' + +And under their gaze he quietly lighted a cigarette with the +deliberation of one in whom a long and solitary life had bred habits +only to be broken at last by death. + +Presently the General rose and went to the window again. + +'They are still doubtful,' he said, returning, 'and I think their +numbers have decreased. We cannot allow them to disperse.' + +He paused, thinking deeply. + +'My child,' he said suddenly to Estella, 'you must show yourself on +the balcony.' + +Estella rose at once; but Julia held her back. + +'No,' she said; 'let me do it. Give me the white mantilla.' + +There was a momentary silence while Estella freed herself from her +cousin's grasp. Conyngham looked at the woman he loved while she +stood, little more than a child, with something youthful and +inimitably graceful in the lines of her throat and averted face. +Would she accept Julia's offer? Conyngham bit his lip and awaited +her decision. Then, as if divining his thought, she turned and +looked at him gravely. + +'No,' she said; 'I will do it.' + +She went towards the window. Her father and Conyngham had taken +their places, one on each side, as if she were the Queen indeed. +She stood for a moment on the threshold, and then passed out into +the moonlight, alone. Immediately there arose the most terrifying +of all earthly sounds--the dull, antagonistic roar of a thousand +angry throats. Estella walked to the front of the balcony and +stood, with an intrepidity which was worthy of the royal woman whose +part she played, looking down on the upturned faces. A red flash +streaked the darkness of a far corner of the square, and a bullet +whistled through the open window into the woodwork of a mirror. + +'Come back,' whispered General Vincente. 'Slowly, my child-- +slowly.' + +Estella stood for a moment looking down with a royal insolence, then +turned, and with measured steps approached the window. As she +passed in she met Conyngham's eyes, and that one moment assuredly +made two lives worth living. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. MIDNIGHT AND DAWN. + + + + 'I have set my life upon a cast + And I will stand the hazard of the die.' + +'Excellency,' reported a man who entered the room at this moment, +'they are bringing carts of fuel through the Calle de la Ciudad to +set against the door and burn it.' + +'To set against which door, my honest friend?' + +'The great door on the Plaza, Excellency; the other is an old door +of iron.' + +'And they cannot burn it or break it open?' + +'No, Excellency. And, besides, there are loopholes in the thickness +of the wall at the side.' + +The General smiled on this man as being after his own heart. + +'One may not shoot to-night, my friend. I have already given the +order.' + +'But one may prick them with the sword, Excellency?' suggested the +trooper, with a sort of suppressed enthusiasm. + +The General shrugged his shoulders, wisely tolerant. + +'Oh yes,' he answered, 'I suppose one may prick them with the +sword.' + +Conyngham, who had been standing half in and half out of the open +window, listening to this conversation, now came forward. + +'I think,' he said, 'that I can clear the Plaza from time to time if +you give me twenty men. We can thus gain time.' + +'Street-fighting,' answered the General gravely. 'Do you know +anything of it? It is nasty work.' + +'I know something of it. One has to shout very loud. I studied it- +-at Dublin University.' + +'To be sure--I forgot.' + +Julia and Estella watched and listened. Their lot had been cast in +the paths of war, and since childhood they had remembered naught +else. But neither had yet been so near to the work, nor had they +seen and heard men talk and plan with a certain grim humour--a curt +and deliberate scorn of haste or excitement--as these men spoke and +planned now. Conyngham and Concepcion Vara were altered by these +circumstances--there was a light in their eyes which women rarely +see, but the General was the same little man of peace and of a high +domestic virtue, who seemed embarrassed by a sword which was +obviously too big for him. Yet in all their voices there rang alike +a queer note of exultation. For man is a fighting animal, and from +St. Paul down to the humblest little five-foot-one recruit, would +find life a dull affair were there no strife in it. + +'Yes,' said the General, after a moment's reflection, 'that is a +good idea, and will gain time. But let them first bring their fuel +and set it up. Every moment is a gain.' + +At this instant some humorist in the crowd threw a stone in at the +open window. The old priest picked up the missile and examined it +curiously. + +'It is fortunate,' he said, 'that the stones are fixed in Toledo. +In Xeres they are loose, and are always in the air. I wonder if I +can hit a citizen.' And he threw the stone back. + +'Close the shutters,' said the General. 'Let us avoid arousing ill- +feeling.' + +The priest drew the jalousies together, but did not quite shut them. +Vincente stood and looked out through the aperture at the moonlit +square and the dark shadows moving there. + +'I wish they would shout,' he said. 'It is unnatural. They are +like children. When there is noise there is little mischief.' + +Then he remained silent for some minutes, watching intently. All in +the room noted his every movement. At length he turned on his heel. + +'Go, my friend,' he said to Conyngham. 'Form your men in the Calle +de la Ciudad, and charge round in line. Do not place yourself too +much in advance of your men, or you will be killed, and remember-- +the point! Resist the temptation to cut--the point is best.' + +He patted Conyngham on the arm affectionately, as if he were sending +him to bed with a good wish, and accompanied him to the door. + +'I knew,' he said, returning to the window and rubbing his hands +together, 'that that was a good man the first moment I saw him.' + +He glanced at Estella, and then, turning, opened another window, +setting the shutters ajar so as to make a second point of +observation. + +'My poor child,' he whispered, as she went to the window and looked +out, 'it is an ill-fortune to have to do with men whose trade this +is.' + +Estella smiled--a little whitely--and said nothing. The moon was +now shining from an almost cloudless sky. The few fleecy remains of +the storm sailing towards the east only added brightness to the +night. It was almost possible to see the faces of the men moving in +the square below, and to read their expressions. The majority stood +in a group in the centre of the Plaza, while a daring few, reckoning +on the Spanish aversion to firearms, ran forward from time to time +and set a bundle of wood or straw against the door beneath the +balcony. + +Some, who appeared to be the leaders, looked up constantly and +curiously at the windows, wondering if any resistance would be made. +Had they known that General Vincente was in that silent house they +would probably have gone home to bed, and the crowd would have +dispersed like smoke. + +Suddenly there arose a roar to the right hand of the square where +the Calle de la Ciudad was situated, and Conyngham appeared for a +moment alone, running towards the group, with the moonlight flashing +on his sword. At his heels an instant later a single line of men +swung round the corner and charged across the square. + +'Dear, dear,' muttered the General; 'too quick, my friend, too +quick!' + +For Conyngham was already among the crowd, which broke and surged +back towards the Cathedral. He paused for a moment to draw his +sword out of a dark form that lay upon the ground, as a cricketer +draws a stump. He had, at all events, remembered the point. The +troopers swept across the square like a broom, sending the people as +dust before them, and leaving the clean, moonlit square behind. +They also left behind one or two shadows, lying stark upon the +around. One of these got upon its knees and crawled painfully away, +all one-sided, like a beetle that has been trodden underfoot. Those +watching from the windows saw with a gasp of horror that part of +him--part of an arm--had been left behind, and a sigh of relief went +up when he stopped crawling and lay quite still. + +The troopers were now retreating slowly towards the Calle de la +Ciudad. + +'Be careful, Conyngham,' shouted the General from the balcony. +'They will return.' + +And as he spoke a rattling fire was opened upon them from the far +corner of the square, where the crowd had taken refuge in the +opening of the Calle del Arco. Immediately, the people, having +noted that the troopers were few in number, charged down upon them. +The men fought in line, retreating step by step, their swords +gleaming in the moonlight. Estella, hearing footsteps in the room +behind her, turned in time to see her father disappearing through +the doorway. Concepcion Vara, coatless, as he loved to work, his +white shirtsleeves fluttering as his arm swung, had now joined the +troopers, and was fighting by Conyngham's side. + +Estella and Julia were out on the balcony now, leaning over and +forgetting all but the breathless interest of battle. Concha stood +beside them, muttering and cursing like any soldier. + +They saw Vincente appear at the corner of the Calle de la Ciudad and +throw away his scabbard as he ran. + +'Now, my children!' he cried in a voice that Estella had never heard +before, which rang out across the square, and was answered by a yell +that was nothing but a cry of sheer delight. The crowd swayed back +as if before a gust of wind, and the General, following it, seemed +to clear a space for himself as a reaper clears away the standing +corn before him. It was, however, only for a moment. The crowd +surged back, those in front against their will, and on to the +glittering steel--those behind shouting encouragement. + +'Name of God!' shouted Concha, and was gone. They saw him a minute +later appear in the square, having thrown aside his cassock. He +made a strange lean figure of a man with his knee-breeches and dingy +purple stockings, his grey flannel shirt, and the moonlight shining +on his tonsured head. He fought without skill, and heedless of +danger, swinging a great sword that he had picked up from the hand +of a fallen trooper, and each blow that he got home killed its +victim. The metal of the man had suddenly shown itself after years +of suppression. This, as Vincente had laughingly said, was no +priest, but a soldier. Concepcion, in the thick of it, using the +knife now with a deadly skill, looked over his shoulder and laughed. + +Suddenly the crowd swayed. The faint sound of a distant bugle came +to the ears of all. + +'It is nothing,' shouted Concha, in English. 'It is nothing. It is +I who sent the bugler round.' + +And his great sword whistled into a man's brain. In another moment +the square was empty, for the politicians who came to murder a woman +had had enough steel. The sound of the bugle, intimating, as they +supposed, the arrival of troops, completed the work of +demoralisation which the recognition of General Vincente had begun. + +The little party--the few defenders of the Casa del Ayuntamiento-- +were left in some confusion in the Plaza, and Estella saw with a +sudden cold fear that Conyngham and Concha were on their knees in +the midst of a little group of hesitating men. It was Concha who +rose first and held up his hand to the watchers on the balcony, +bidding them stay where they were. Then Conyngham rose to his feet +slowly, as one bearing a burden. Estella looked down in a sort of +dream, and saw her lover carrying her father towards the house, her +mind only half comprehending, in that semi-dreamlike reception of +sudden calamity which is one of Heaven's deepest mercies. + +It was Concepcion who came into the room first, his white shirt dyed +with blood in great patches like the colour on a piebald horse. A +cut in his cheek was slowly dripping. He went straight to a sofa +covered in gorgeous yellow satin, and set the cushions in order. + +'Senorita,' he said, and spread out his hands. The tears were in +his eyes, 'Half of Spain,' he added, 'would rather that it had been +the Queen--and the world is poorer.' + +A moment later Concha came into the room dragging on his cassock. + +'My child, we are in God's hand,' he said, with a break in his gruff +voice. + +And then came the heavy step of one carrying sorrow. + +Conyngham laid his burden on the sofa. General Vincente was holding +his handkerchief to his side, and his eyes, which had a thoughtful +look, saw only Estella's face. + +'I have sent for a doctor,' said Conyngham. 'Your father is +wounded.' + +'Yes,' said Vincente immediately; 'but I am in no pain, my dear +child. There is no reason, surely, for us to distress ourselves.' + +He looked round and smiled. + +'And this good Conyngham,' he added, 'carried me like a child.' + +Julia was on her knees at the foot of the sofa, her face hidden in +her hands. + +'My dear Julia,' he said, 'why this distress?' + +'Because all of this is my doing,' she answered, lifting her drawn +and terror-stricken face. + +'No, no!' said Vincente, with a characteristic pleasantry. 'You +take too much upon yourself. All these things are written down for +us beforehand. We only add the punctuation--delaying a little or +hurrying a little.' + +They looked at him silently, and assuredly none could mistake the +shadows that were gathering on his face. Estella, who was holding +his hand, knelt on the floor by his side, quiet and strong, offering +silently that sympathy which is woman's greatest gift. + +Concepcion, who perhaps knew more of this matter than any present, +looked at Concha and shook his head. The priest was buttoning his +cassock, and began to seek something in his pocket. + +'Your breviary?' whispered Concepcion; 'I saw it lying out there-- +among the dead.' + +'It is a comfort to have one's duty clearly defined,' said the +General suddenly, in a clear voice. He was evidently addressing +Conyngham. 'One of the advantages of a military life. We have done +our best, and this time we have succeeded. But--it is only +deferred. It will come at length, and Spain will be a republic. It +is a failing cause--because, at the head of it, is a bad woman.' + +Conyngham nodded, but no one spoke. No one seemed capable of +following his thoughts. Already he seemed to look at them as from a +distance, as if he had started on a journey and was looking back. +During this silence there came a great clatter in the streets, and a +sharp voice cried 'Halt!' The General turned his eyes towards the +window. + +'The cavalry,' said Conyngham, 'from Madrid.' + +'I did not expect--them,' said Vincente slowly, 'before the dawn.' + +The sound of the horses' feet and the clatter of arms died away as +the troop passed on towards the Calle de la Ciudad, and the quiet of +night was again unbroken. + +Then Concha, getting down on to his knees, began reciting from +memory the office--which, alas! he knew too well. + +When it was finished, and the gruff voice died away, Vincente opened +his eyes. + +'Every man to his trade,' he said, with a little laugh. + +Then suddenly he made a grimace. + +'A twinge of pain,' he said deprecatingly, as if apologising for +giving them the sorrow of seeing it. 'It will pass--before the +dawn.' + +Presently he opened his eyes again and smiled at Estella, before he +moved with a tired sigh and turned his face towards that Dawn which +knows no eventide. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. THE DAWN OF PEACE. + + + +'Quien no ama, no vive.' + +The fall of Morella had proved to be, as many anticipated, the knell +of the Carlist cause. Cabrera, that great general and consummate +leader, followed Don Carlos, who had months earlier fled to France. +General Espartero--a man made and strengthened by circumstances--was +now at the height of his fame, and for the moment peace seemed to be +assured to Spain. It was now a struggle between Espartero and Queen +Christina. But with these matters the people of Spain had little to +do. Such warfare of the council-chamber and the boudoir is carried +on quietly, and the sound of it rarely reaches the ear, and never +the heart, of the masses. Politics, indeed, had been the daily fare +of the Spaniards for so long that their palates were now prepared to +accept any sop so long as it was flavoured with peace. Aragon was +devastated, and the northern provinces had neither seed nor +labourers for the coming autumn. The peasants who, having lost +faith in Don Carlos, rallied round Cabrera, now saw themselves +abandoned by their worshipped leader, and turned hopelessly enough +homewards. Thus gradually the country relapsed into quiet, and +empty garners compelled many to lay aside the bayonet and take up +the spade who, having tasted the thrill of battle, had no longer any +taste for the ways of peace. + +Frederick Conyngham was brought into sudden prominence by the part +he played in the disturbance at Toledo--which disturbance proved, as +history tells, to be a forerunner of the great revolution a year +later in Madrid. Promotion was at this time rapid, and the +Englishman made many strides in a few months. Jealousy was so rife +among the Spanish leaders, Christinos distrusted so thoroughly the +reformed Carlists, that one who was outside these petty +considerations received from both sides many honours on the sole +recommendation of his neutrality. + +'And besides,' said Father Concha, sitting in the sunlight on his +church steps at Ronda, reading to the barber, and the shoemaker, and +other of his parishioners, the latest newspaper, 'and besides--he is +clever.' + +He paused, slowly taking a pinch of snuff. + +'Where the river is deepest it makes least noise,' he added. + +The barber wagged his head after the manner of one who will never +admit that he does not understand an allusion. And before any could +speak the clatter of horses in the narrow street diverted attention. +Concha rose to his feet. + +'Ah!' he said, and went forward to meet Conyngham, who was riding +with Concepcion at his side. + +'So you have come, my son,' he said, shaking hands. He looked up +into the Englishman's face, which was burnt brown by service under a +merciless sun. Conyngham looked lean and strong, but his eyes had +no rest in them. This was not a man who had all he wanted. + +'Are you come to Ronda, or are you passing through?' asked the +priest. + +'To Ronda. As I passed the Casa Barenna I made inquiries. The +ladies are in the town, it appears.' + +'Yes; they are with Estella in the house you know--unless you have +forgotten it.' + +'No,' answered Conyngham getting out of the saddle. 'No; I have +forgotten nothing.' + +Concepcion came forward and led the horse away. + +'I will walk to the Casa Vincente. Have you the time to accompany +me?' said Conyngham. + +'I have always time--for my neighbour's business,' replied Concha. +And they set off together. + +'You walk stiffly,' said Concha. 'Have you ridden far?' + +'From Osuna--forty miles since daybreak.' + +'You are in a hurry.' + +'Yes, I am in a hurry.' + +Without further comment he extracted from inside his smart tunic a +letter--the famous letter in a pink envelope--which he handed to +Concha. + +'Yes,' said the priest, turning it over. 'You and I first saw this +in the Hotel de la Marina at Algeciras, when we were fools not to +throw it into the nearest brazier. We should have saved a good +man's life, my friend.' + +He handed the letter back, and thoughtfully dusted his cassock where +it was worn and shiny with constant dusting, so that the snuff had +nought to cling to. + +'And you have got it--at last. Holy saints--these Englishmen! Do +you always get what you want, my son?' + +'Not always,' replied Conyngham, with an uneasy laugh. 'But I +should be a fool not to try.' + +'Assuredly,' said Concha, 'assuredly. And you have come to Ronda-- +to try?' + +'Yes.' + +They walked on in silence, on the shady side of the street, and +presently passed and saluted a priest--one of Concha's colleagues in +this city of the South. + +'There walks a tragedy,' said Concha, in his curt way. 'Inside +every cassock there walks a tragedy--or a villain.' + +After a pause it was Concha who again broke the silence. Conyngham +seemed to be occupied with his own thoughts. + +'And Larralde--?' said the priest. + +'I come from him--from Barcelona,' answered Conyngham, 'where he is +in safety. Catalonia is full of such as he. Sir John Pleydell, +before leaving Spain, bought this letter for two hundred pounds--a +few months ago--when I was a poor man and could not offer a price +for it. But Larralde disappeared when the plot failed, and I have +only found him lately in Barcelona.' + +'In Barcelona?' echoed Concha. + +'Yes; where he can take a passage to Cuba, and where he awaits Julia +Barenna.' + +'Ah!' said Concha, 'so he also is faithful--because life is not +long, my son. That is the only reason. How wise was the great God +when He made a human life short! ' + +'I have a letter,' continued Conyngham, 'from Larralde to the +Senorita Barenna.' + +'So you parted friends in Barcelona--after all--when his knife has +been between your shoulders?' + +'Yes.' + +'God bless you, my son!' said the priest, in Latin, with his +careless, hurried gesture of the Cross. + +After they had walked a few paces he spoke again. + +'I shall go to Barcelona with her,' he said, 'and marry her to this +man. When one has no affairs of one's own there always remain--for +old women and priests--the affairs of one's neighbour. Tell me--' +he paused and looked fiercely at him under shaggy brows--'tell me +why you came to Spain.' + +'You want to know who and what I am--before we reach the Calle +Mayor?' said Conyngham. + +'I know what you are, amigo mio, better than yourself, perhaps.' + +As they walked through the narrow streets Conyngham told his simple +history, dwelling more particularly on the circumstances preceding +his departure from England, and Concha listened with no further sign +of interest than a grimace or a dry smile here and there. + +'The mill gains by going, and not by standing still,' he said, and +added, after a pause, 'But it is always a mistake to grind another's +wheat for nothing.' + +They were now approaching the old house in the Calle Mayor, and +Conyngham lapsed into a silence which his companion respected. They +passed under the great doorway into the patio, which was quiet and +shady at this afternoon hour. The servants, of whom there are a +multitude in all great Spanish houses, had apparently retired to the +seclusion of their own quarters. One person alone was discernible +amid the orange trees and in the neighbourhood of the murmuring +fountain. She was asleep in a rocking-chair, with a newspaper on +her lap. She preferred the patio to the garden, which was too quiet +for one of her temperament. In the patio she found herself better +placed to exchange a word with those engaged in the business of the +house, to learn, in fact, from the servants the latest gossip, to +ask futile questions of them, and to sit in that idleness which will +not allow others to be employed. In a word, this was the Senora +Barenna, and Concha, seeing her, stood for a moment in hesitation. +Then, with a signal to Conyngham, he crept noiselessly across the +tessellated pavement to the shadow of the staircase. They passed up +the broad steps without sound and without awaking the sleeping lady. +In the gallery above, the priest paused and looked down into the +courtyard, his grim face twisted in a queer smile. Then, at the +woman sitting there--at life and all its illusions, perhaps--he +shrugged his shoulders and passed on. + +In the drawing-room they found Julia, who leapt to her feet and +hurried across the floor when she saw Conyngham. She stood looking +at him breathlessly, her whole history written in her eyes. + +'Yes,' she whispered, as if he had called her. 'Yes--what is it? +Have you come to tell me--something?' + +'I have come to give you a letter, senorita,' he answered, handing +her Larralde's missive. She held out her hand, and never took her +eyes from his face. + +Concha walked to the window--the window whence the Alcalde of Ronda +had seen Conyngham hand Julia Barenna another letter. The old +priest stood looking down into the garden, where, amid the feathery +foliage of the pepper trees and the bamboos, he could perceive the +shadow of a black dress. Conyngham also turned away, and thus the +two men who held this woman's happiness in the hollow of their hands +stood listening to the crisp rattle of the paper as she tore the +envelope and unfolded her lover's letter. A great happiness and a +great sorrow are alike impossible of realisation. We only perceive +their extent when their importance has begun to wane. + +Julia Barenna read the letter through to the end, and it is possible +(for women are blind in such matters) failed to perceive the +selfishness in every line of it. Then, with the message of +happiness in her hand, she returned to the chair she had just +quitted, with a vague wonder in her mind, and the very human doubt +that accompanies all possession, as to whether the price paid has +not been too high. + +Concha was the first to move. He turned and crossed the room +towards Conyngham. + +'I see,' he said, 'Estella in the garden.' + +And they passed out of the room together, leaving Julia Barenna +alone with her thoughts. On the broad stone balcony Concha paused. + +'I will stay here,' he said. He looked over the balustrade. Senora +Barenna was still asleep. + +'Do not awake her,' he whispered. 'Let all sleeping things sleep.' + +Conyngham passed down the stairs noiselessly, and through the +doorway into the garden. + +'And at the end--the Gloria is chanted,' said Concha, watching him +go. + +The scent of the violets greeted Conyngham as he went forward +beneath the trees planted there in the Moslems' day. The running +water murmured sleepily as it hurried in its narrow channel towards +the outlet through the grey wall, whence it leapt four hundred feet +into the Tajo below. + +Estella was seated in the shade of a gnarled fig tree, where tables +and chairs indicated the Spanish habit of an out-of-door existence. +She rose as he came towards her, and met his eyes gravely. A gleam +of sun glancing through the leaves fell on her golden hair, half +hidden by the mantilla, and showed that she was pale with some fear +or desire. + +'Senorita,' he said, 'I have brought you the letter.' He held it +out, and she took it, turning over the worn envelope absent- +mindedly. + +'I have not read it myself, and am permitted to give it to you on +one condition--namely, that you destroy it as soon as you have read +it.' + +She looked at it again. + +'It contains the lives of many men--their lives and the happiness of +those connected with them,' said Conyngham. 'That is what you hold +in your hand, senorita--as well as my life and happiness.' + +She raised her dark eyes to his for a moment, and their tenderness +was not of earth or of this world at all. Then she tore the +envelope and its contents slowly into a hundred pieces, and dropped +the fluttering papers into the stream pacing in its marble bed +towards the Tajo and the oblivion of the sea. + +'There--I have destroyed the letter,' she said, with a thoughtful +little smile. Then, looking up, she met his eyes. + +'I did not want it. I am glad you gave it to me. It will make a +difference to our lives. Though--I never wanted it.' + +Then she came slowly towards him. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, IN KEDAR'S TENTS *** + +This file should be named kdrt10.txt or kdrt10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, kdrt11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, kdrt10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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