likingfor the black-browed young journalist. Moreover, she had great faith inhim.
Guy, of course, was her king amongst men. But she was not so hopelesslyin love that she could not distinguish between the mental qualities ofthe two. Guy was very intelligent; he could snatch at the hints ofothers, and shape his course of conduct on them.
But Moreno had a subtle and penetrating intellect, a touch of genius.And he combined inspiration with prudence.
If Guy talked cheerfully when he was with her, her fears and doubtsrevived on his departure. Could he look all round and accurately weighthe chances?
When Moreno told her to cheer up, and promised that all would be well,she felt fortified. There was a sureness, a quiet power about the manthat raised her drooping spirits.
"You are sure that you will beat them, you are sure you will save Guy?"she had asked him one day, when he had paid her a brief visit.
He spoke very deliberately. "I have outwitted them once before." Helooked a little gloomy as he spoke. It went to his kind heart to recallthat on that occasion he had been compelled to sacrifice that charmingyoung Frenchwoman, Valerie Delmonte. "I shall outwit them again,believe me."
His tone was very confident, Isobel thought. "I am sure you will layyour plans very well, Mr Moreno, but there is many a slip between thecup and the lip."
"The cup will be carried to the lip this time without a falter." Hespoke with his usual assurance.
"Guy always speaks cheerfully too," said Isobel in her simple,straightforward way. "But I am always doubtful when he leaves me."
"Mr Rossett does not know what is in my mind, Miss Clandon. And I darenot tell him, for reasons of my own. An incautious confidence mightutterly frustrate my plans. I have many helping me, but I have close athand a man who is going to be my ablest lieutenant. Strange to say, youknow that man well."
Isobel lifted up to him startled eyes. "You bewilder me. I know so fewpeople."
"It will surprise you to know that your cousin, Maurice Farquhar, is inMadrid at the present moment and waiting to receive my instructions."
"Maurice Farquhar in Madrid," she repeated. "But why, but why?"
"Because I wanted to have a clear-brained, resolute Englishman at myright hand when the supreme moment came. I can't tell you everything.I daren't tell you much. Would you like to see your cousin? I canmanage it easily."
"Oh, I would love to," replied Isobel promptly, speaking according tothe dictates of her open, generous nature. Then she suddenly rememberedthat Guy had expressed a certain jealousy of her cousin. "But perhapsat the moment it might not be prudent. I am here _incognita_, in arather difficult situation. Later on, perhaps."
From those few halting phrases Moreno guessed accurately enough what waspassing in her mind. She had a sincere affection, for her cousin, whocame over here to assist her at the greatest personal inconvenience, butshe would not see him, in case his visit might give offence to herlover. It is ever thus that self-sacrifice in love is rewarded.
"I quite understand," he said. "Well, Farquhar is a white man, a man ina thousand. I wrung a promise from him some time ago that he would comeover here to help me to save Mr Rossett. You can guess why he gave methat promise."
"Yes," answered Isobel in a low voice. "I can guess why he gave thatpromise. He wanted to help me. You cannot tell how mean I felt. Oh, Ithink I will risk it. Please ask him to come and see me."
Moreno shook his head. "No, better perhaps not to risk it. Farquhar iscontent to do good by stealth. We cannot be quite sure of the view theother gentleman might take of it, if it came to his ears."
Isobel felt a frightful coward, but she was relieved by Moreno's words.Guy was very impetuous, and terribly jealous. She could not afford torouse his suspicions. He left her feeling a little miserable andself-reproachful. Why could not men take a broad-minded view of things?Even if a girl were engaged, it did not follow that she should not beallowed to have a faithful friend.
She had grown very weary of Madrid. She hated the place and the people,under these most unhappy circumstances.
The good-natured Mrs Godwin had done her best to amuse her. She hadtaken her to the Museo del Prado, and pointed out to her themasterpieces of Velazquez, Murillo, Ribera, and other great masters.She had conducted her down the animated plaza of the Puerta del Sol.She had shown her the view from the Campillo de las Vistillas. Theywere too late for the Carnivals, and to a bull-fight Isobel would notgo.
Moreno betook himself to the quarters of Farquhar. He found theself-contained young barrister stretched on a sofa, reading a Frenchnovel.
Farquhar was already a bit tired of it. On reflection, he was not quitecertain if he had not been a little foolish in giving that promise. Hehad rushed over to Spain to help a man whose only claim to considerationlay in the fact that he had taken away from him the woman he wanted forhis wife.
Then he thought of the charming Lady Mary, her warm praise andflattering words. When he got back to England and recounted hisexploits to her, he was sure he would receive a very warm welcome.Farquhar threw down his book, and lighted a cigar. "Well, my good oldfriend, things seem devilish slow just now. Is anything going to happenshortly?"
Moreno nodded. "Things will happen the evening after to-morrow. Curbyour impatience till then."
"You have got it all cut and dried, then?"
"I think so. To-morrow morning I will take you to my excellent friend,the Chief of Police, and tell him that you represent me. We will spendan hour or two afterwards in discussing our plans. I have just comefrom Miss Clandon."
"Ah," said Farquhar, with affected carelessness--that name had stillpower to thrill him in spite of Lady Mary. "Did you find her quitewell?"
"Perfectly, so far as her health is concerned, but naturally full ofdoubts and fears. I told her you were here; she was, of course, greatlysurprised. She expressed a wish to see you." This, of course, was notthe strict truth, but Moreno always wanted to make everybody feel happyand comfortable.
A pleased expression stole over the man's face. "Oh, she said that, didshe?"
Moreno did not answer the question directly.
"I pointed out to her that, in my opinion, such a meeting might beextremely dangerous, and that it is essential you should lie very low."
Farquhar accepted the glib explanation. Moreno had one of the greatestqualities of a diplomatist, that he could impress nearly everybody withhis sincerity.
Next morning the two men interviewed the Chief of Police, or rather theChief of Police, by appointment, interviewed them at the journalist'smodest lodgings. In the course of that interview many things wereexplained at length.
Moreno, always cautious, always on the look out for accidents, stood bythe window, keeping a vigilant eye on passers-by. Farquhar and theChief sat at the far end of the room.
Suddenly he espied the tall form of Contraras nearing the house. Hebundled his guests into his bedroom. "The old devil! I had a suspicionhe might turn up. It is quite safe here. If I give a loud whistle, getunder the bed."
But Contraras did not pay a long visit; he did not even sit down. Hehad only strolled round to ascertain that things were going right.Moreno, resolutely avoiding details, assured him that everything was intrain. On the evening after to-morrow Guy Rossett would be deliveredinto the hands of the brotherhood, to be dealt with as they thought fit.
Contraras left well pleased. Moreno was certainly a great acquisitionto the organisation. When he was well out of sight the two men werebrought out of the bedroom.
The Chief of Police shook his fist vindictively in the direction of thevanished figure.
"I was itching to take the old scoundrel straight away, Mr Moreno," heremarked.
The journalist smiled. "Impetuosity never pays, senor. You could haveproved nothing if you had. A most respectable old gentleman, highlyconnected, through his wife, with some of the best families in thecountry, pays me a visit to inquire after my health, or perhaps to askm
e to dinner at his hotel. You would not have made much out of it."
The Chief cooled down immediately under this sensible speech. "You area very wonderful man, Mr Moreno. You never allow yourself to becarried away by your feelings."
He turned with his gracious foreign manner to Farquhar.
"I understand, sir, you are an old and trusted friend. I have no doubtthat you have the same faith in his judgment that I have."
On the afternoon of that same day Moreno went to see Violet Hargrave.He found her restless and agitated.
"You are sure that it will take place to-morrow night?" was her firstquestion.
"I am as near sure as can be. Unless a miracle happens he will bebrought up for judgment before the brotherhood," was the answer.
Violet shuddered; her face went pale.
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