"It could not be worse," he said. "He has put the senorita in a safe
place, and is going to play the trump card that I was sure he had in
reserve somewhere. You should have accepted his challenge and shot him.
Only one thing can beat Quesada--and that's death."
"I will do my best all the same," I answered; and in this mood I set out
for my interview at the Palace, revolving on the way all the possible
expedients that I could adopt to win even part of my purpose against the
powerful enemy who held his way with such grim tenacity and inflexible
resolve.
My reception at the Palace might have flattered even Royalty itself.
When I was ushered into the presence, the young King came running to me,
laying aside all attempt at dignity, and smiling with pleasure as he
held out his hands liked a pleased child.
"My Englishman of Podrida, at last!" he exclaimed, and he led me to the
Queen Mother, who was graciousness itself.
"You have kept the words of gratitude too long prisoners in my heart, my
lord. The Queen would chide you, but the mother's heart is too full for
anything but welcome for the man who saved her son."
"I trust your Majesties will pardon me. The delay has been due to
causes as full of trouble as of urgency."
"My son has told me of your daring rescue, but I wish to hear it again
from you. I am so anxious to know all, that I would have the tale even
before your own anxieties which, if we can, you must let us help you to
dispel."
"I have the mask here, my lord," cried the King, with all a boy's
eagerness, bringing it out of a pocket.
"The story is a very simple one, your Majesty," I said, and then in as
few words as I could, I told it. She listened with the closest
attention, questioning me now and again on such points as interested her
most, or where she wished greater detail; and when I described how the
King was seized and carried into the carriage, and again how I had found
him fastened down and disguised, she clasped the boy to her, and her
changing colour and quickened breath gave evidence of her concern and
emotion.
"And you were alone through it all?" she exclaimed, when I finished.
"Fortune favoured me or I could not have succeeded, Madame. Had not the
two men following the carriage met with an accident, I could have done
nothing. As it was, the surprise of my attack did what no strength of
arm or skill or wit could have accomplished."
"Do not call it fortune? It was rather the hand of Heaven guarding my
dear son's safety, and you were the chosen instrument. And should you
know those miscreants again?" Her tone hardened and her eyes flashed,
as she put the question; and I thought then I could discern the feeling
which had had as much to do with her impatience at my delay in coming to
the Palace as her desire to thank me. She was burning with all a
Spaniard's hot eagerness for revenge. But it was not my cue to strike
at the agents, and my reply was guarded.
"It is possible that if they were face to face with me, I could identify
them; but the thing was hurried, the work of no more than a few moments,
and my English eyes are not sufficiently accustomed to distinguish
between Spanish faces."
"Ah, I am disappointed," cried the Queen, frowning.
"But I can do more than identify the men who actually did the ill-work,
Madame; I know by whose hidden hand the wires of the plot were pulled."
"Tell us that, and you will add a thousand times to the obligation that
Spain and we owe you, my lord," she exclaimed, strenuously. "Who is the
arch-traitor?"
"I shall have need of your Majesty's patient indulgence."
"And you will not ask it in vain, Lord Glisfoyle, if you do not seek it
for these villainous Carlists, who would have robbed me of my son and
dealt this foul blow at Spain." Then with a quick thought, she asked:
"But how comes it that you, an English nobleman, here in Madrid no
longer than a few weeks, can have learnt these things?" I believe I
could detect a touch of suspicion in her manner; and the King looked up
sharply into her face and then across at me.
"By a coincidence in regard to my name, your Majesty. I came to Madrid
but a short time ago to join the staff of the British Embassy; I was not
then Lord Glisfoyle; and by a chain of coincidences some of the plans of
the misguided Carlists became known to me."
"Do you mean you knew of this intended plot against my son?"
"There are always rumours and reports, Madame, and such gossip was, of
course, current in your capital--and equally, of course, well known to
your Government and officials. But this was different; and the definite
tidings came to me at a time and in a form which made it impossible for
me to act otherwise than as I did."
"What was your name then, if not Lord Glisfoyle?" she broke in.
"Ferdinand Carbonnell, the younger son of my late father."
"Ferdinand Carbonnell! Ah, then----" the sentence remained unfinished,
and I stood in silence watching her and waiting for the conclusion. I
could guess her thought.
"Ferdinand Carbonnell is a well-known Carlist leader, Lord Glisfoyle,"
and she spoke in a tone that augured but ill for my success.
"And for that Carlist leader I was mistaken, your Majesty, and working
through that strange mistake, Providence enabled me to rescue your son
from a far worse fate than that which any Carlist ever designed. In
following this strange double career I carried my life in my hands,
risking misunderstanding at the hands of your Majesty's agents, and
putting my life to the hazard of any Carlist discovery of my real
character."
"You cannot doubt him, mother," cried the King, protestingly.
"You have said too much or too little, my lord. I beg you to speak
frankly."
"I would ask your Majesty by whose advice it was that your son came to
be in such a case as made this attempt possible?" I said; and the
question went home, for she started quickly.
"By the advice of my Ministers, who felt that our confidence in the
people should be shown in a way which all could see for themselves. Do
you propose to arraign my Government on a charge of treason?"
"I do not arraign your Government as a whole, your Majesty; but what if
it were proved to you that one of them, discontented with his present
power and influence, great though they be, had aimed to make them
greater; had thought that under the Republican form of Government there
were wider scope for his ambition; and had planned, therefore, a double
stroke of policy--say, for instance, the removal of your son from the
Throne, using the Carlists for his purpose, and at the same time
preparing to crush their power when he had used them, employing the very
pretext of the plot as the cause of his drastic measures of repression?
What if there be a man in your confidence who designed to overthrow the
Monarchy, and climb on the ruins of the Throne to the place of supreme
power in the country as President of a Republic to be proclaimed? What
if these plans were all laid and settled in every detail; and yet made
with such consummate skill and shrewdness, that even the crumbling of
the corner-stone--this attempt on His Majesty--still left him higher,
firmer, and stronger in position and influence than ever? What if the
subtle organisation by which this Carlist rising has been crushed almost
in a day was the outcome, not of a desire to save His Majesty's throne
from attack, but of an intention to break down what--should the Monarchy
be no longer in existence--would have been the one remaining possible
obstacle to this man's success? Would your Majesty say that these
Carlists or the arch-plotter were the more to be feared, the more
culpable, the more dangerous?"
I spoke with rising vehemence, and my daring words frightened both my
hearers. The Queen was almost pale when I ended.
"You cannot make this good, my lord. I cannot believe it."
"Yet every word is true and can be made good. The man I mean is your
most powerful Minister--Senor Sebastian Quesada."
"It cannot be. It is impossible," cried the Queen. "You frighten me, my
lord. What proofs have you?"
The intense impression created by my charge, emboldened me to go a step
farther and place all on the cast. The Queen was so agitated, and the
young King so deeply and keenly moved by my words, that I could not fail
to see what weight would attach to any request I put while they were in
that mood; and taking my fortune boldly in both hands, I resolved to
risk everything on the chance of my being able to prove my charge
against Quesada. Mayhew's words of despondent caution recurred to me,
but my ears were deaf to everything save the one absorbing purpose that
swayed me.
"His Majesty was good enough on the day, when under Providence I was
able to snatch him from the hands of his enemies, to promise to grant me
such request as I might prefer. You, Madame, to-day, with gracious
sympathy at the mention of my cares and anxieties, expressed the
generous desire to help me. May I entreat you then, remembering what I
have done, to grant me a favour should I make good my words, and bring
home to the real traitor this treachery against your august family and
your throne?"
"You would make conditions, my lord?"
"Your Majesty, I am but a suppliant."
"What is this favour?"
"That your Majesties will be graciously disposed to pardon the
unfortunate dupes who have been misled by the man who has used them for
his own purpose?"
"It is impossible, Lord Glisfoyle, utterly impossible. You cannot mean
this. Stay, I have heard a possible reason for this strange request. I
have heard your name coupled with one of the most daring of these
Carlists--a Senorita Castelar--by whose influence we are told Ferdinand
Carbonnell, the Englishman, took up the role of Ferdinand Carbonnell,
the Spanish Carlist. Has this anything to do with this favour you ask?"
"Your Majesty, the dearest wish of my life is to make the Senorita
Castelar my wife; as the farthest thought of hers would be to make me a
Carlist. I trust that my acts have shown this for me, rendering mere
protests needless."
"Mother!" cried the young King, eagerly, like the staunch little
champion of my cause that he was.
"These are matters of deep state importance, and we cannot follow only
our inclinations," said his mother in rebuke; and the tone was hard and
unpromising. "We cannot make any such promise as a condition; but if
you prove your charge--and put to the proof it must be--the double claim
you will have upon us will make it hard to resist whatever you ask. I
can say no more."
"I leave the appeal to your Majesty's heart," I answered, with a deep
obeisance. "And I will make good my words now and here." I drew out
then the compromising letters in Quesada's handwriting, and placing them
in the Queen's hands, I told her at great length and with all possible
detail the story of the Minister's treachery.
To this narrative she listened with even more engrossed attention than
to my former one of her son's rescue; and as I drove home point after
point and saw them tell, I felt that I was winning her to my side all
reluctantly and dead against her prejudice in her Minister's favour,
until she herself admitted that the route of the young King's drive and
the lack of guards on that eventful afternoon had been suggested by
Quesada himself.
At the close she was so overcome that, feeling embarrassed, I asked
leave to withdraw; but she detained me and gradually put aside her
weakness.
"I still cannot believe it, Lord Glisfoyle; but it shall be tested to
the uttermost and every means of investigation shall be exhausted. On
that you have my word. And now----" she had got as far as that when
there came an interruption, and a message was brought that an immediate
audience was craved by one of the Secretaries of State on a matter of
the deepest urgency.
"You will not leave the Palace, my lord. I wish to see you again," and
I withdrew to an ante-room to await her pleasure. I was satisfied with
what I had done; and as I sat thinking over the interview, I noticed
signs of much excitement and commotion; messengers kept coming and going
quickly; high dignitaries and officials were hurrying this way and that,
and the number of people in the great chamber increased largely, all
talking together in clusters, scared in looks and excited in manner,
although subdued in tone.
Presently the infection of the general excitement spread to me, and
looking about me I caught sight of one of the two officers who had come
to me at the Hotel de l'Opera on the night of the King's rescue, Colonel
Vasca, and I went up to him.
"Is there any special news to cause this commotion?" I asked, when we
had exchanged greetings.
"Is it possible you have not heard it? The Minister of the Interior,
Senor Quesada, has been assassinated within the last hour in his own
house."
"Quesada dead!" I exclaimed in profound astonishment. And then by a
freak of memory Mayhew's words recurred to me--"Only one thing will ever
beat Quesada--and that's death." "How did it happen? Who was the
assassin?" I asked.
"Some villain of a Carlist, it is believed, in revenge for the blow
which the Government have just struck at them. But they will pay a
heavy price for so foul a deed."
My heart sank within me at the news. I realised in an instant what it
must mean to my poor Sarita and everyone leagued with her, and I went
back to my seat overwrought and half-distracted. She had indeed sown
the wind to reap the whirlwind, and I could not hope to save her.
When at length the summons came for me to return to the Queen Regent, I
followed the messenger almost like a man in a dream.
*CHAPTER XXXII*
*LIVENZA'S REVENGE*
The young King was no longer with the Queen Regent when I entered, and I
found two or three of the chief Ministers of State in conference with
her.
The news of the assassination had caused profound dismay, intensified in
the case of the Queen Regent by the fact that it had followed with such
dramatic swiftness upon the heels of my charges against the powerful and
favourite Minister.
"You have heard of this fearful deed, Lord Glisfoyle?" was the Queen's
question on my entrance.
"I have learnt it within the last few minutes in the ante-chamber, your
Majesty."
"I have told my lords here the strange charges you brought against Senor
Quesada. Do you still maintain them?"
"In every word and detail, Madame," and, at her request, I repeated to
them everything I had said before.
"It is certainly a most extraordinary story," said one of them, the Duke
of Novarro, Minister of War, in a tone which suggested unbelief and
hostility.
"And the most extraordinary part of it, my lord," I replied, "is the
fact that he was enabled to lay all these plans without anyone of his
colleagues or associates having a suspicion of the truth. No doubt if
the dead man's papers are secured in time, they will yield abundant
proof of everything." The hint was acted upon at once, and messengers
were despatched to see that this was done.
"Can you throw any light upon the motive for this deed?" asked the Duke.
"I have not heard the actual circumstances, but the Minister was a man
who had made many enemies, private as well as public. I should look for
the murderer among his private enemies." And even as I spoke, my own
words prompted a thought, and the closing scene at Calvarro's farm
flashed across my mind.
"Do you mean you would not set this down to Carlist feeling?" he asked
next, in the same tone of unbelief.
"It was an act of private revenge, no more and no less," I answered
firmly, "and I believe that I can find the means to prove it so." The
suggestion was welcome to all present. The murder of a colleague from
private motives was obviously a far less disturbing event to Ministers
than an assassination designed as a protest against Ministerial policy.
But the Duke was none the less hostile to me.
"Her Majesty has informed us that your lordship has gone so far as to
request an amnesty for these Carlists as the return for the services you
have rendered to the nation and the Throne by the rescue of the King.
But you will of course understand that, now at any rate, such a request
cannot be conceded."
"His Majesty himself gave me a pledge that such favour as I asked should
be granted," I returned.
"His Majesty is too young to understand the needs of policy, my lord;
and the pledge was given before this had occurred. Everything is
changed by such a deed."
"His Majesty is not too young to keep his word," I retorted, bluntly.
"The pardon of any individual conspirator might still be granted, Lord
Glisfoyle," interposed the Queen, pointedly, "provided no complicity in
this were found." I understood her meaning, but would not yield my
point.
"I have your Majesty's gracious assurance that in the event of my
proving the charges I have brought, my claims would be hard to resist
whatever the favour I asked."
"You surely cannot think of pressing this, now," was her reply, with a
dash of surprise.
"Most respectfully I must press it with all the power and force at my
command; and with all submission to your Majesty, I am bound to say, I
can prefer no other and no less request. There is no proof that this is
a Carlist outrage."
My firmness was altogether unwelcome, and the Queen and her Ministers
showed both irritation and impatience at my persistence. But I cared
nothing for that. I was fighting for what I believed would be the one
certain method of winning Sarita and removing her last objections, and I
would not give way.
"Your solicitude for these miscreants is out of place, my lord, and what
you ask is a sheer impossibility," said the Duke, haughtily. "Any
further insistence must, as you will see, wear a curious look. These
wretches are none the less traitors because their first plot failed.
This second stroke has not failed."
"Had the man who has met this tragic death succeeded in his project, my
lord Duke; if the young King were not only abducted but put to death; if
the Monarchy had been overthrown and a Republic proclaimed in its place;
if Her Majesty here were an exile from her kingdom, yourselves in
danger, and the country in the throes of a bloody revolution, would you
have deemed it then too great a price to have paid for the stroke which
would have prevented everything? That was what the rescue of the young
King meant, nothing less; and it will not be affected by Senor Quesada's
death, if I can prove it to have been a private act. But as you will,"
I said, indignantly, after a moment's pause, "I trusted to the royal
pledge, and if you, my lords, advise that the royal word of honour shall
be broken, I, of course, can say no more. May I crave your Majesty's
permission to withdraw?"
It was a bold stroke, but it did more to help me than hours of argument
and wrangling. At the mention of her son's death the Queen winced and
grew suddenly pale, and came over at once to my side.
"What Lord Glisfoyle urges is true, gentlemen," she said, "and he who
saved the King, my son, cannot be allowed to find my ears deaf to his
plea. What you ask, Lord Glisfoyle, shall be granted, if you can prove
this crime to be no Carlist outrage, and if my influence and my son's
will stand for aught in the councils of Spain." She spoke proudly and
almost sternly, and the others were as much discomfited as I was elated.
"I beg your Majesty to pardon my frankness of speech," I said, with the
utmost deference, "and to accept my most earnest and heartfelt
gratitude. I believe that already I know where to look for the man who
has done this, and with your permission will at once set about the
search. May I ask that the powers and services of the police may be
placed at my disposal?"
"You shall have anything and every thing you desire, Lord Glisfoyle. If
you desire to leave at once the necessary authority shall be sent after
you to your hotel."
I bowed myself out then, and drove in hot haste to the Hotel de l'Opera
in search of Mayhew. The news of the assassination of Quesada had
reached the hotel, and I found them all in a mood of deep concern, and
full of anxiety to learn the result of my long interview at the Palace.
"I have not time for a word now, except that I have gained all I wished
on one condition--that I trace the man who killed Quesada, and prove it
murder and not a Carlist assassination."
"But you cannot," cried Mayhew. "It's all over the city that----"
"I can and will," I broke in. "But listen, my dear fellow. Important
documents will come to me from the Palace in a few minutes. I am going
now to Quesada's house, and I wish you to bring them to me there the
instant they arrive;" and without waiting another moment I was hurrying
away, when my sister cried:
"Let me come with you, Ferdinand. That poor girl will be in such
sorrow."
"A good thought, Mercy. Quick;" and we drove away together.
But at Quesada's I met with a check. The police were in possession of
the house and would not admit me, though I urged and insisted and
stormed in turns. Senor Rubio was there in charge, and nothing would
move him. There was no option, therefore, except to await the arrival
of the necessary authority; and scribbling a hasty note to the Duke of
Novarro to tell him the state of matters and to urge despatch, I sent
Mercy with it to the Palace in search of him.
Then I tried to curb my impatience while I waited, and to occupy the
time I made an examination of the outside of the house in the possible
hope of some discovery which might help me.
I was thoroughly convinced that the murder was the act of Juan Livenza,
and that I should find he had been at the house and had seen Quesada. I
could not get a single question answered, however, and even my scrutiny
of the exterior of the house and the grounds brought police
interference.
But this was not before I had seen that which set me thinking hard. The
window of the library in which I had last seen Quesada, the room he
chiefly used, overlooked the garden at the rear, and one of the panes of
glass was broken. An examination of the stonework underneath it, and of
the ground immediately below, revealed marks which seemed to tell me how
such a deed might well have been committed.
One or two branches of a shrub close to the wall were broken and bent,
and one of the stones, which projected beyond the rest sufficiently to
afford a precarious foothold, was slightly chipped and scraped on the
edge. It was just such a mark as might have been caused by a man
standing on it to look into the window, and on making the experiment I
found that a man of Livenza's height, which was about my own, could
easily have grasped the stone sill, looked into the room, and fired a
revolver through the broken pane.
Just as I had made this discovery the police ordered me away from the
house, and I went back to the front to wait for my tarrying authority.
Mercy brought it. The Duke had been at the Palace, and on the receipt of
my note had given her a paper which he declared would do all I wished
until the more formal authority should be ready.
Armed with this I summoned Rubio, showed it him, and with my sister was
admitted to the house. I sent her at once in search of Dolores while I
questioned Rubio.
"You see my authority, Senor Rubio; be good enough to tell me all you
know of the matter, and as quickly as possible."
"We know very little as yet. His Excellency was alone in the library
when I arrived to see him on business. The servant took my name to him,
and came running back in alarm, crying that he was lying dead on the
floor, having dropped out of his chair where he had been sitting. He
was as dead as a coffin, shot through the head, here in the temple," and
he put his hand to his own head to indicate the place.
"How do you suppose it happened?"
"No one can tell, senor. He had been dead perhaps half an hour, so the
doctors said; no one was with him, and no one was known to have seen him
for perhaps an hour before that time. No cry was heard; no sound,
indeed; and yet he was dead. The Carlists must have obtained admission
to the house secretly, and have escaped as they came."
"Take me to the room," I said, and he led the way in silence. "Show me
exactly where he was found." He pointed out the spot. "Now just sit in
that chair a moment;" and, much wondering, he took his seat at Quesada's
writing table. I stood on the side away from the window, and a glance
was enough to show me that his head was in a direct line with the broken
pane of glass.
"Was the window fastened?" I asked.
"Yes, I myself examined it."
"That broken pane of glass?"
"It was broken by his Excellency himself to-day, and he had given orders
for the repair of it."
The answer surprised me, but a moment's reflection showed me what might
have happened.
"How came it broken, and when; do you know?"
"How, I do not know; but it was done when Colonel Livenza was here
to-day, closeted with his Excellency. They were, as perhaps you know,
senor, closely associated together." There was a furtive, half eager,
half alarmed, and wholly cunning look on Rubio's face, which sent the
thought flashing upon me that he could say a good deal of Quesada's
private matters if he pleased.
"I know much more than you think, Senor Rubio. These two were close
friends, you say; did they part to-day on friendly terms?"
"I was not here, senor," was the guarded reply.
But I could read the facts without his help. Livenza had come to demand
an explanation, and intended, no doubt, to wreak his revenge on the
spot. There had been a quarrel, and probably some kind of tussle, in
which this window had been broken. Livenza had for some reason
abstained from shooting Quesada there and then; but he had been quick to
see that if he left and went round to the back of the house, he could
fire at his victim through the broken window, and kill him without
anyone suspecting the act. I got some confirmation of this theory by
questioning the servant, who had seen his master after Livenza had left
the house, and had noticed that he was unusually excited and angry.
There was the fact that no sound of a pistol shot had been heard; but
the room had double doors and a heavy portiere curtain, and this might
well account for such a thing. I was, at any rate, satisfied with my
theory, and while I was with Rubio, Mayhew arrived with the official
papers placing the police services at my disposal. I showed them to
him, and they increased his apprehension.
"I shall do all I can to help you, senor," he assured me, nervously.
"You will find it safer," said I, significantly. "Have any of Senor
Quesada's papers been removed?"
"None," he answered, with a slight start.
"Well, then my friend Mr. Mayhew here, of the British Embassy, will
remain and see that everything is sealed. And now tell me, do you
suspect anyone of this murder?"
"It is the work of the cursed Carlists, of course. His Excellency's life
was more than once attempted by them."
"Put that idea out of your head. This was a private crime, and we have
to bring it home to the murderer. Where is Senorita Castelar?" I put
the question abruptly, and looked at him fixedly. He started very
uneasily.
"She could not do it."
"I am perfectly aware of that, but I must know at once where she is.
Understand, your future will depend upon your answering me frankly. You
know quite well where she is, for you have been Senor Quesada's
instrument in all that business. When you arrested her at the station
yesterday, where did you take her, and to what place did you remove her
afterwards?"
"She was taken to the prison of San Antonio, and afterwards removed by
his Excellency's orders--I don't know where."
"I don't believe you," I said, bluntly. "I know you are lying, indeed,
and if you don't tell me the truth on the spot, the first use I'll make
of this authority will be to have you clapped into gaol yourself, and
the whole of your private papers searched. And you know as well as I
what we shall find among them. I'll give you two minutes to choose."
"I don't know, senor, I don't, upon my soul; and, by the Holy Saints, I
swear I don't," he cried, eagerly, panic-stricken by the threat.
"One of your minutes is gone. Silas, call up a couple of the
gendarmes;" and Mayhew turned to the door.
"Stop, senor, stop for the love of Heaven. I don't know. I wish to
help you; I swear I do. But I'm innocent of everything. Give me time
to think."
"Your innocence wears a strange dress, Rubio, and I won't give you
another second."
"I can tell you what I think, senor," said the bully, trembling like a
child. "It is most likely his Excellency would have had the senorita
taken to a house at Escorias, which I believe he had prepared for her."
"If your thoughts are wrong you'll find yourself in a hole. Now, a last
question. Is it possible that Colonel Livenza can have found this out
in any way?"
"Mother of Angels, I believe I see it now," he exclaimed, excitedly, and
then was silent.
"You are either hiding some fact or hatching another lie," I said,
sternly. "I should have thought you could see the danger of that with
me."
"I will tell you, senor, I will, indeed, everything. I came to this
house this afternoon in consequence of a message from his Excellency.
He had for some time had a suspicion that Colonel Livenza had played him
false--there was, I believe, something in which you yourself were
concerned with the colonel. A warrant was made out and handed to me,
and I was to wait for further instructions before making the arrest.
This afternoon his Excellency rang me up on the telephone--his
instrument is on the table here, you see--and he was speaking to me when
the message broke off suddenly. He had got as far as this--'Go to
Escorias and execute the warrant I gave you recently to arrest----'
There it stopped, and I remember now there was a sharp noise I could not
understand. I thought something was wrong with the wires. I waited for
him to speak again, and when nothing came through I spoke to him and
rang the bell. But I could get no answer, and in the end thought it
best to come to the house for further instructions. I thought he might
wish the senorita removed again, and came up to see."
"Then you did know where she was," I said, pointedly. "And I'm glad you
see the prudence of treating me frankly. How do we get to Escorias?"
"We can drive in less than two hours, senor." I rang the bell and
ordered the fastest pair of horses in Quesada's stable to be put in at
once, and while waiting for them, told Mayhew what I wished in regard to
the dead man's papers. As soon as the carriage came, I took Rubio and
one of his assistants with me, and ordered the coachman to drive at top
speed to Escorias.
Everything seemed clear to me now, and this unexpected development
filled me with a new fear for Sarita's safety. Livenza, full of his
wild passion for revenge, had gone to Quesada, and a fiery interview had
taken place between the two, in which the Minister's old ascendancy over
the weaker man had so far asserted itself, that the latter had been
unable to carry out his purpose in the room. He had either discovered,
or Quesada, with the probable object of pacifying him, had told him
where Sarita was detained, and had very likely suggested that he should
go and take her away at once--calculating with diabolical cunning that
the temptation to Livenza to see her again and have her in his power,
would prove irresistible. In this way the Minister had saved his life
for the moment, and when Livenza had left, Quesada had planned to have
him arrested. In the meantime, the murderer had seen his way to achieve
both his purposes--to kill his victim secretly, by shooting him from the
garden, through the broken window, and then to rush off to Sarita. He
had thus probably heard the broken telephone message being spoken, and
at the dramatic moment when Quesada's attention would be fixed on the
telephone and his ears covered by the receivers, the shot had been fired
with instantly fatal results.
So certain was my belief in my theory, and so vivid the impressions I
had gathered, that I could picture in my thoughts every step and act in
the progress of the tragedy. But there was one question I could not
answer: and the thought of it filled me with an acute pang of alarm.
What were Livenza's intentions in regard to Sarita?
In the room at Calvarro's farm, his passion for her had been at first
chilled by his fear of me, and then dominated by the even fiercer
passion of revenge upon the man who had duped and out-witted him. But
this thirst for revenge had now been sated by the death of Quesada, and
who could say what wild form the recrudescence of the mad love-passion
would assume?
Sarita, as I knew from her own lips, had fooled him. She had allowed him
to make love to her; had possibly fed his passion with subtle but
dangerous suggestions of a response to his love; and had won him for the
Carlists by these desperate means because no others were present to her
hand. My own words of warning to her recurred to me; and if he
succeeded in forcing his way to her now that his enemy and master was
dead, what limit could I believe he would place to his violence?
I had always regarded him as a man liable to be driven by passion across
the borderland between sanity and madness; he had passed through more
than one crisis of acute mental shock within the last few days; and it
was more than probable that the deed of blood he had just committed,
itself the act of a madman, would suffice to rob him of the last vestige
of sane responsibility.
He would go to Sarita with the blood of their mutual oppressor still hot
on his murderous hands, and if we were not in time to save her from him,
what hope was there for her? I knew how she would receive him; and the
thought maddened me until in my burning impatience I could not sit
still, but thrust my head out of the carriage-window to urge the driver
constantly to fresh exertions, although we were already travelling at
headlong speed.
I was on fire with eagerness, and racked with alarm at the looming
possibility of failure, even when all had gone so well.
*CHAPTER XXXIII*
*THE HUT ON THE HILLSIDE*
No speed that the driver could get out of the mettlesome horses was
swift enough to keep pace with my fears or to ease the pricking of my
alarms.
Our route to Escorias lay along the road where I had followed and
rescued the young King, and as we flew along, bumping, jolting and
swaying, covering the level road at the gallop, dashing down and
rattling up the hills, I could measure the distance by the different
spots which were fixed in my memory by the incidents of that memorable
ride.
"How far is it beyond Podrida?" I asked Rubio, having to shout the
question to make myself heard amid the clatter and racket of the jolting
carriage.
"At this pace, half an hour," came the reply, in jerks. "If we reach
there without a smash." My answer was to lean out once more and shout
to the driver to hurry; and then I threw myself back in my seat, folded
my arms, and yielded myself up anew to the torture of my distracting
thoughts.
I tried to estimate how long a start Livenza would have of us, how far
he could be in advance, and what time he would have for the execution of
the plan he had formed, whatever that might be. And my lowest
calculation alarmed me.
The murder had been committed about two hours and a half before I had
got to Quesada's house; I had been there about one hour; and thus
Livenza would have three and a half hours' start of us. From this we
might deduct the time he would spend in Madrid before setting out for
Escorias; but as he would be in fear of discovery, I dared not hope that
he would remain a minute longer than would be necessary to procure a
horse or some kind of conveyance. His own horses would be at his
immediate disposal, of course; and if he had had them at hand, he might
have started the instant after he had shot his enemy. This would give
him quite three hours' start, even allowing for the quicker pace at
which we were following in pursuit. And in three hours what could he not
do?
There was, of course, room to hope that he might have had to return to
his house to make some preparations for his flight; and I harassed and
worried myself with a hundred speculations about this: whether he would
not have gone to Quesada's with everything in readiness for flight; or
whether he had thought that he would be taken at once, or even killed by
Quesada, and had thus set his affairs in order before going. To
speculate on his actions in such a case, was, however, of no more value
than to count the waves on the seashore; and I got no further than an
ever-consuming desire for yet greater speed.
"Close there now, senor," cried Rubio, at last, looking out of the
window into the gloom. "A few minutes."
"Thank Heaven for that," I exclaimed, fervently.
"And that we've escaped a smash at that mad pace." We had left the high
road, and were going less rapidly along a narrow country lane, and could
speak without so much effort. "It's going to be a wild night," he
added.
"I wish we were there, or rather that we could have been there two hours
ago."
"I think we shall be in time, senor. The place is not easy to find. I
think it will be all right there."
When the carriage stopped I sprang out, followed by Rubio, and hurried
up to the house, which lay back some distance from the lane, along a
rough, ill-kept carriage drive.
"It's evidently all right, senor. If anything had happened we should
see some signs of it," said my companion, as he knocked loudly. A man
opened the door, and touched his forehead as he recognised Rubio. "Good
evening, Carlos. All well here?"
"All well, Senor Rubio;" and at the word I breathed a deep sigh of
relief.
"The senorita is well, Carlos?"
"Quite well, Senor Rubio, and in her rooms."
"No visitors, I suppose?" was asked, casually.
"Yes, senor; Colonel Livenza, from his Excellency, has been here."
"_Been_ here?" I cried, in surprise. "Tell us, quickly, what you mean?"
"He came with a letter from his Excellency, to see the senorita. He
brought some urgent news, he said, and he was with her about half an
hour, and then left."
"How long ago was that?"
"He has been gone maybe an hour, or perhaps less."
"Quick work," muttered Rubio. "Show the senor here to the senorita's
rooms," he added, to the man. "Shall I go with you, senor?"
"No, wait, please," I answered, following the man upstairs, my heart
beating quickly at the thought of seeing Sarita again. He went up to
the floor above, the rooms of which were shut off from the staircase by
a door which I saw had been recently placed there. This he unlocked and
stood aside for me to pass.
"The first door on the right is the sitting-room, senor," he said,
respectfully, and I went to it and knocked. Getting no reply, I knocked
again loudly; and again failing to get any response, my fears, that
after all something was wrong, began to revive. I knocked a third time,
and still getting no answer tried to open the door, and found it locked
on the inside. I called Sarita, loudly, by name then, knowing my voice
would re-assure her, and when no response came, I tried the other doors
and found them locked like the first, on the inside.