The next morning Guy Rossett and Farquhar were admitted to a private
audience of the King. A gracious message had been transmitted to Moreno
through the agency of the Chief of Police. It would not have been very
politic on the part of that enterprising young man to show himself at
the Palace.
His Majesty thanked them both warmly for their services, and was very
interested in the details which they gave him of that eventful evening.
"I know England well, and love it," he said. "As long as she breeds
such sons as you, she will always remain the first of great nations.
Last night's work was good. My poor country will have a more peaceful
time now that we have laid these bloodthirsty scoundrels by the heels."
Moreno's overpowering impulse was to get back to England as quickly as
possible. But there was a certain duty to perform first. He must pay
his promised visit to Violet Hargrave.
He called about eleven o'clock. He found her looking pale and languid
from the effects of the powerful mixture he had given her.
"Pulling round?" he inquired as they shook hands. "I can see you are,
but you won't be quite yourself for a few hours. Well, tell me what
happened. I arrived late at the meeting, and simply heard from
Contraras that Alvedero had reported you were indisposed. But I learned
no details, and, of course, did not press for any. Did they fetch a
doctor to you? If so, what is his verdict?"
A faint smile spread over her pale face.
"He has only left a few minutes ago. He came to the conclusion that I
dosed myself with drugs. I allowed him to believe that I did. Of
course, I have never drugged in my life."
"A very clever man, an ornament to his profession," remarked Moreno
drily. "Still, how the devil should he guess, being totally ignorant of
the circumstances? And the symptoms were precisely those which would
have been produced by a long course of drugging."
Mrs Hargrave laid her hand upon his arm, and spoke in a serious voice.
"What of last night? There is nothing in the papers this morning. I
have sent out for half a dozen. Tell me what happened."
"The brotherhood has been defeated again." He rehearsed the scene for
her benefit, and came to the concluding portion.
"Just as they were about to remove Rossett, I distinctly heard a low
whistle, that was repeated a few seconds later. I just pulled aside the
curtain, and saw that the house was surrounded. I had hardly put the
blind back when the door was burst open and the police swarmed in. They
cut Rossett loose and took him downstairs. They covered us with
revolvers, and made us take off our masks. The Chief who was with them
recognised Contraras, Zorrilta, and Alvedero. Myself and Somoza he did
not recognise."
"Ah!" Violet Hargrave drew a long breath. "You were the only one who
escaped, then? How did you manage it?"
"By a miracle. I always keep my head in a crisis. As soon as I heard
them rushing up the stairs, I drew near to the door, hoping to escape in
the confusion. It was, of course, a thousand to one chance. While all
the attention was being concentrated on Contraras and the others--of
course the Chief didn't expect to bag such a big game--I drew my knife,
plunged it into the breast of the man guarding the door--I fear I killed
him, poor fellow--flew down the stairs, knocked over another chap, and
dodged through them."
Violet Hargrave surveyed him critically. "I am afraid you haven't a
very high opinion of my intelligence. That is the story you will tell
to Lucue, Maceda, and Jaques when we meet again in London. It does not
impose upon me. You have escaped right enough, but you escaped with the
connivance of the police."
Moreno bit his lip; he had presumed a little too much upon feminine
incredulity.
"At any rate, you are not in their clutches," he said quietly. "I saved
you. Don't forget that."
She reached out her hand. "Please forgive me. I am very grateful for
what you have done. Of course, if I had gone there you could not have
saved me. I should have been taken with the others. You could save Guy
Rossett and yourself, even your clever brain could not have taken in a
third. I repeat, I am very grateful."
Moreno retained her hand in his. Secretive as he was by nature, he felt
that the time for dissimulation was past.
"When we get to London--I am leaving to-night, and the sooner we make
tracks the better--we will respect each other's secrets. I have still
in my possession the photographed copy of that document which you sold
to Guy Rossett."
She drew away her hand from his with an indignant gesture.
"Oh, you think I am utterly, irretrievably base!" she cried bitterly.
"You think I would betray you, after what you have done for me, saved me
from death or a life-long imprisonment." She broke into wild sobbing.
He put his arm round her, and drew her gently towards him, till her
crying ceased.
"My poor little Violet," he whispered gently. "Let us speak together
quite frankly. You are, on your own showing, an adventuress, with, I
believe, some very womanly instincts. Well, I am not quite sure that I
am very much better. You sold the Cause for money. I sold it for
money, too, plus conviction. I wonder if we could turn over a new leaf,
lead a new life together?"
"If I could find somebody who really cared for me," cried the pretty
little blonde woman, still tearful. "Jaques loves me, I am sure, but
just with the love of a father."
"Well, I care for you," said Moreno, and this time he spoke without any
reservation.
Violet lifted her face to his, and their lips met. Then she shivered.
"But how can we escape from this horrible brotherhood? Lucue and Jaques
are left. They will exact their pound of flesh. They will snare us
into equally dangerous enterprises."
Moreno snapped his fingers. "Bah! If I have outwitted Contraras and
the others, I will soon settle Lucue's hash. As to poor old Jaques, it
won't take long to convince him that he is more safely employed in
earning a hundred per cent, on his capital than in trying to blow up
respectable people who have certainly never injured him. The fate of
the others will frighten him."
Violet drew herself from his protecting arm, and dried her eyes.
"I think, dear, I can really turn into a good woman," she said
plaintively. "You see, I have never had a proper chance. When I
married Jack, and I was genuinely fond of him, I thought I had met a
gentleman. Can you guess what he really was?"
"A card-sharper?" suggested Moreno, with his uncanny facility of
guessing conundrums.
Mrs Hargrave nodded her blonde head.
"You have hit it. A week after we were married he told me all about
himself. We were to take an expensive flat in Mount Street, and he
would bring people there. He spent three weeks in teaching me an
elaborate system of signalling. As a rule, we played together, but he
had another couple of confederates to ward off suspicion."
"Did you tell Jaques of this?"
"No, I was too ashamed. Jaques is, of course, a rogue in his own way,
but not that way. He was opposed to the marriage at first, and I was
keen on it. I made out that Jack was a man of good family, and
well-off. I believed all he told me at the start. I didn't want to own
that I had been taken in."
"I quite understand," replied Moreno. "By the way, of course you didn't
know that poor old Contraras is dead."
"Contraras dead? How did he die?"
"It appears that he always carried some poisoned tablets in his pocket
in case of accidents. Before they handcuffed him--they are a bit slower
here than in Paris or London--he swallowed one of them, and died as they
took him downstairs. Poor old man! He was a terrible fanatic, but he
was more honest than most of them. I don't suppose there will be much
mourning in Fitzjohn's Avenue. I expect his family will be glad to have
got rid of him."
He kissed her very tenderly, as he bade her good-bye.
"A new life, little woman, from to-day?"
"A new life from to-day," she repeated softly, "as long as I am sure
that you really care."
"I do care," replied Moreno, speaking with unusual fervour for a man of
his cautious temperament.
Of the London section of the brotherhood little remains to be told.
Shortly afterwards Lucue was stabbed to death in a violent quarrel with
a brother anarchist. Jaques and Maceda, alarmed at the fate of their
Spanish colleagues, took but a perfunctory part in further propaganda.
In twelve months' time the London section had ceased to exist as an
active force.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
On a mellow October day, a few months after those thrilling events in
Madrid, Isobel was married in the quiet little church on her uncle's
estates. It was in this church that her father had been christened.
Her bridesmaids were Lady Mary and two cousins. Her uncle, the head of
the family, gave her away.
For the Head of the Family and his wife had behaved quite properly on
the occasion. They had insisted that she should be married from their
house, that she should have the whole-hearted support of her kindred.
Such an arrangement suited her very well. Her bereavement had been so
recent that the idea of a fashionable wedding would have been repugnant
to her. Here in this quiet little church, where generations of Clandons
had been christened, many of them married, she gave herself to the man
of her choice.
With the advent of his great-aunt's considerable fortune, Guy's brief
fit of ambition died out. And it must be admitted that, although he had
stuck gallantly to his post, and refused to show the white feather, his
experience of diplomatic life had been more exciting than pleasant. So
he severed his connection with the Foreign Office, having made up his
mind to lead the easy and agreeable life of a man of wealth and
position.
They were to spend their honeymoon in Italy. On their return, they
would renovate Aunt Henrietta's charming country residence in Hampshire
and take a house in London, where they intended to spend a good deal of
their time.
For Guy was very proud of his beautiful Isobel, and he could see a time
when she would become a very charming and popular hostess.
The young couple drove away amidst the cordial greetings of the small
company assembled. Only a few intimate connections of the two families
were present.
Moreno had been invited, but he had excused himself on some plausible
pretext. He had no desire to thrust himself into an aristocratic
_milieu_, to which he was unaccustomed. He sent the bride a very
handsome present, with a card on which was written: "From Andres Moreno,
as a souvenir of thrilling times in Spain."
While Lord Saxham was saying good-bye to the Clandons, Maurice Farquhar
conducted Lady Mary to the car which was to drive them back to Ticehurst
Park, a distance of about fifty miles.
"You will not forget that you are due to us on the twenty-fifth," she
reminded him as they shook hands.
"Is it likely? I have been looking forward to it ever since you sent me
the invitation."
"I am looking forward to it, too," said Mary softly, and a rather
becoming colour swept over her cheek, making her look quite attractive.
The Earl joined them and mounted the car. He waved his hand cheerfully
as they drove off. "Not good-bye, but _au revoir_, Farquhar. See you
on the twenty-fifth."
He watched the car drive out of sight, thinking of many things. He had
loved Isobel with all the fervour of first love, but Isobel was gone
from him. And Mary was very sweet and attractive, and took no pains to
conceal that she took great pleasure in his society. Well--perhaps some
day!
But even in his secret thought the young and ambitious barrister could
hardly bring himself to believe that a girl of Mary's birth and long
descent would give herself to a man who had only his brains to recommend
him.
Still, this younger generation of the Rossetts had a strange democratic
strain in them. Guy had chosen his bride from the small squirearchy.
It was openly rumoured in the clubs that, having come into a snug little
income from great-aunt Henrietta, Lord Ticehurst had made up his mind to
marry his chorus-girl, and defy his father.
Lady Mary had also been well provided for from the same kind source.
She might prove as democratic as the others.
And, while Farquhar was ruminating over all these things, Isobel and her
husband had set out on the first stage of their journey to the enchanted
land of wedded romance.
The End.