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Her heart seemed too full for further words, for her luminous eyes were filled with tears as she disengaged her hand and turned slowly away with uneven steps.
Again and again we met, but on each occasion I spoke of love, she requested me kindly but firmly to refrain from discussing the subject.
"It is enough," she said, one morning, while we were strolling in the Calle Santa Catalina--"enough that, in idling away a few hours each morning, we do not bore each other. Let us live for the present, enjoying to the full the few pleasant rambles that remain to us. Then, when we have parted, only pleasant memories will remain."
Sometimes I met her driving in the afternoon, or walking along the Concha in the evening with the Countess. Then she would smile a graceful recognition, but, being only a chance acquaintance, I was not introduced, neither was I invited to the Villa Guipuzcoa.
Late one afternoon, a fortnight after our first meeting, I returned to the Ezcurra from a long walk, having parted from her as usual, outside the Casino, when Senor Cos Gayon, a well-known member of the Senate, told me that Senor Canovas del Castillo had that morning had an audience of the Queen-Regent, and had at last undertaken to form a new Cabinet.
This was an important piece of intelligence, inasmuch as it showed that the Conservatives would again hold office, and that, the loyalty of the military thus being a.s.sured, all fear of revolutionary troubles was at an end. Having spent an hour chatting with half a dozen politicians staying at the hotel, I ascended to my room to write a long dispatch descriptive of the situation.
The afternoon seemed too bright and balmy for work, therefore, before sitting down to my correspondence, I went out upon the balcony, and there smoked and dreamed until the shadows lengthened and over the broad waters of the Bay of Biscay there hung a glorious golden haze. A cool wind at last sprang up, and, returning into my room, I sat down and commenced to pen the latest intelligence for publication in London on the following morning. After writing about a quarter of an hour, voices in the adjoining room attracted my attention. Then suddenly I remembered that it was the Conservative leader's sitting-room. With the names of well-known politicians falling upon my ear, I crept noiselessly across the polished floor to the locked door that divided the two apartments. Then, placing my ear close against the door, I stood on the alert.
My heart beat quickly, for in a few moments I ascertained that a meeting was in progress to decide upon the formation of the Cabinet. I recognised the voice of Senor Canovas, who acted as president, and there must have been fully eighteen or twenty of the most prominent members of his party present. With paper and pencil in hand, I listened to the discussion, as each name was submitted for the eight princ.i.p.al offices of State, Senor Canovas himself being, of course, President of the Council. The first business was the acceptance of the chief of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs by the Duke of Tetuan, and it was agreed without a single dissentient that Senor Romero y Robledo should become Minister of Justice. Senor Bosch and Senor Castellanos accepted office as Ministers of Public Works and the Colonies respectively; but a discussion lasting nearly an hour took place regarding the Ministry of Finance, until an agreement was at length arrived at that to Senor Navarro Reverter the portfolio should again be allotted. Protracted discussions also ensued regarding the appointment of the Ministers of Marine, War, and the Interior, and it was not until nearly seven that these appointments were made. Then Senor Canovas read a complete list of the newly-formed Cabinet,--each member of which was present, and expressed his acceptance of office,--afterwards stating that the crisis was at an end, and that at noon on the following day he had arranged to place the list in the hands of the Queen-Regent.
Little did the President of the Council dream that the list he had read out had been carefully noted by an eavesdropping journalist, and that even while his colleagues were congratulating each other upon the amicable solution of the crisis, the correspondent was busy preparing a list of the new Cabinet, which would be published in London in the morning, and known throughout England many hours before it became public in Spain.
Congratulating myself upon my good fortune, I finished my dispatch, waited until all the politicians had left the President's room, and then descended to the _table d'hote_. Opposite me sat Senor Romero y Robledo, the new Minister of Justice, but in reply to my carefully-veiled inquiries he gave no sign that a Cabinet had been formed. The decision was, I knew, a profound secret until the Queen had given her a.s.sent. While idling over dessert, with just an hour to catch my train to Bayonne, the waitress handed me a note, stating that a man-servant awaited a reply.
On the envelope was a great gilt crest, and the address was written in an unfamiliar angular hand. As I tore it open, a breath of sweet perfume greeted my nostrils, and the words I read in French were as follows:--
"Villa Guipuzcoa, _July 22_.
"_My brother Luis has returned unexpectedly front Cuba, and mamma and I are leaving with him for Madrid by the mail to-night. Will you not call here to wish me farewell; or shall we never meet again? Give bearer a verbal reply, and come at once if possible_.
"Doroteita."
With satisfaction I recognised that it gave an opportunity for an introduction to her family, yet I was nevertheless doubtful about being able to get to Bayonne. Having, however, glanced at the time-table, and ascertained that there was another train at a quarter-past nine, by which I could get over the frontier at midnight, and finding I should be able to spend about an hour at the villa, I decided to respond to the invitation, and gave the girl an answer to that effect. Several times I read the brief, sweetly-scented note, then, finis.h.i.+ng my wine, I rose, and, after a "brush up," entered a cab and told the man my destination.
As I alighted before the great handsome house on the hillside overlooking the bay, the door was thrown open by a servant in livery, who conducted me across a wide square hall, in which a fountain was playing, and ushered me into a small but luxuriously-furnished room.
Taking my card upon a salver, the man returned almost immediately, saying--
"The Senorita Doroteita will be with you in a few moments, Senor."
Then he withdrew, and almost before I had had an opportunity of inspecting the pretty room, which was evidently a boudoir, the door again opened and Doroteita entered.
"I'm so glad you have come," she exclaimed, with a bright smile of welcome, as she grasped both my hands. "I thought perhaps you would be compelled to go to Bayonne to-night."
"So I am," I said. "Nevertheless, I could not part from you without just one brief word of farewell."
Sinking into a low wicker chair, she motioned me to a seat beside her, and told me how her brother, an army officer, who had been for four years in Cuba, had returned that afternoon, and the Countess, on account of some family matters, had resolved to accompany him to Madrid, where he was compelled to report himself on the morrow. She looked absolutely bewitching in a low-necked gown of some dove-grey clinging material, that disclosed her delicately-moulded chest and arms, while in her blue-black hair was a single crimson flower that gave the touch of colour necessary for artistic effect. It was a blossom I had never before seen, almost waxen, and similar to a camellia, but larger and of richer colour.
When we had been chatting some time, each expressing regret that the hour of parting had come, and hope that we should meet again ere long, she suddenly asked--
"Is it absolutely imperative that you should cross the frontier to-night? We go by the Sud Express at eleven-fifteen, why not remain and see us off?"
"I cannot, Doroteita," I replied. "It is most important that I should go to Bayonne to-night--for the last time."
"Then the crisis is ended?" she exclaimed, suddenly interested. "Has a new Ministry been formed?"
"Yes," I replied. "My work is finished."
Her brows contracted for a second as if a sudden thought had occurred to her; then she s.h.i.+vered slightly, and, rising, crossed the room, and, drawing the heavy silken curtains across the window, shut out the extensive view of the moonlit bay.
"Our wanderings have been so pleasant and unconventional that I am loth to leave," she said, as she slowly sank again among her cus.h.i.+ons.
"Nevertheless, I hope some day before long to be in London. Then perhaps we shall be able to spend a few more pleasant hours together."
"I hope so," I said earnestly, rising and taking her hand. "I must, alas! go, or I shall not catch my train."
But she would not hear of my departure, declaring that by the road on the other side of the hill I could reach the station in ten minutes, and, a.s.suring me that she would send one of the servants with me as guide, urged me to resume my seat. Just as I was about to do so, there entered a tall slim man about thirty-five, wearing the uniform of a cavalry officer, and my pretty hostess, rising, introduced him as Luis, her brother.
He was a good-looking fellow, dark and sun-tanned, but when he smiled, cynicism lurked in the corners of his mouth, and instinctively I disliked him. Not that he was supercilious--on the contrary, his greeting was quite effusive. He declared himself much attached to his sister, and any friend of hers was likewise his friend. He regretted that he had to leave for Madrid, but military orders could not be disobeyed. Together we sat chatting, Doroteita ordering some wine, which was served almost immediately by the man who had admitted me.
Luis d'Avendano proved a brilliant conversationalist and entertaining companion, but somehow I could not help regarding him with a curious indescribable suspicion. Once I caught the pair exchanging significant glances, and this increased my vague mistrust. Yet his sister lolled in her chair, with a great cus.h.i.+on of yellow silk behind her head, fanning herself slowly, and chatting with that light coquetry that had so charmed me.
A little clock chiming on its silver bells caused me to spring to my feet.
"Nine o'clock!" I exclaimed. "You must excuse me, otherwise I really shall not catch my train."
"Must you go?" asked Doroteita, in a tone of regret, closing her fan with a snap and rising also.
"Yes," I said. "This is my last train. I must wish you _au revoir_, in the hope that we may meet again at a date not far distant."
"Aren't you going to exchange tokens of friends.h.i.+p?" Luis suggested, laughing in his careless, good-humoured way. "Give my future brother-in-law your flower, Doroteita."
She laughed and blushed, then taking the crimson blossom from her hair, handed it to me. I was about to inhale its fragrance when the strange, fixed look in her eyes fascinated me, and as I placed it in the lapel of my coat with a murmured word of thanks, I confess I was startled by the sudden transformation of her countenance.
"Good-bye," I said, taking her hand.
It was cold, limp, and trembling.
"Adieu," she answered huskily.
I turned to shake hands with her brother, but before I could do so, he had pounced upon me from behind, holding my arms powerless, crying--
"No, no, my friend, you will not escape so easily!"
"What--what do you mean?" I gasped in abject amazement.
"I mean that you do not leave this place alive," he hissed in my ear.
Though I could not see him, I could feel his hot breath upon my cheek, and struggled violently to free myself, but in his iron grip I seemed powerless as a child.
"Now, quick, Doroteita!" he commanded. "Remember, we have no time to lose. Don't stand staring there!"
"Do you mean to kill me?" I cried, clenching my teeth and struggling with all my might to free my arms.
"Curse you, woman! Don't you hear me?" he yelled at Doroteita, who stood transfixed, with face ashen pale and hands clenched in desperation. "Remember what we have at stake! You have trapped him-- finish your work, or--or I'll kill _you_!"
In a second she sprang forward, and, s.n.a.t.c.hing from my b.u.t.tonhole the flower she had given me, held her handkerchief over my mouth with one hand, while with the other she pressed the flower against my nostrils.