silly. Jack was a very expert bridge-player."
Moreno nodded. "I think I understand. We won't go into details. Underhis instructions, you became a very expert bridge-player too. It usedto be whispered that you were just a little bit too lucky."
Violet Hargrave admitted that many rumours had been flying about, andthat the flat in Mount Street had become a little suspect.
"And how did you get into this?" had been Moreno's next question.
Violet had been very frank. "It was dear old Jaques who drew me intoit. You know I have told you how grateful I was to him, how indebted.When he asked me, could I refuse, after all the benefits he had showeredupon me?"
"Impossible," said Moreno in his quiet, easy tones. He added, after apause, "I wonder if your heart is in it?"
She flashed at him a swift glance of interrogation. "I wonder if yoursis?"
Moreno smiled. They were then each suspecting the other, on account oftheir mixed parentage.
"Absolutely," he answered in a tone of deep conviction. "I amnine-tenths Spaniard, one-tenth Englishman. You are one-tenth Spaniardand nine-tenths Englishwoman. I very much doubt if your heart is init."
Violet spoke in a low, hard voice. And she also felt there was need ofcaution.
"I have lived a very hard life, depending upon charity, generous charityI admit, for many years. I think I do not love the present order ofthings. I am really an anarchist; I think I may truly say my heart isin it."
Moreno accepted her statement. She was still an enigma to him. She hadspoken of Jaques with a genuine sense of gratitude, she had alluded toher late husband in terms of sincere affection. The woman had hersentimental moments.
Then he remembered that she was the daughter of a drunken and derelictfather--this much she had told him. Her mother was a Spanish dancer ofunknown origin. Out of this peculiar blend, was it possible to fashionan honest woman. Moreno doubted it.
He remembered the night in the flat at Mount Street, when she hadvindictively declared that Guy Rossett had to be got out of the way.
He had looked at the still very pretty woman, her fair cheeks just alittle flushed with the after results of the good dinner. She had,perhaps, her good points, but was she not an absolute degenerate?Daughter of the wastrel father and the Spanish dancer!
He had been very sympathetic through the recital. He had helped her onwith an encouraging word or two in the pauses of her narrative, for attimes she had evidently pulled herself up with the recollection that shewas being too frank. But he had learned a good deal about Violet'spast.
He still had his suspicions. Perhaps another dinner or two might getmore out of her.
The four conspirators sat in the little room facing the sea. VioletHargrave, by the way, was dressed in a peasant costume.
Alvedero spoke in his deep voice. "I think, for the present, we willmake Fonterrabia our headquarters. It is a quiet little town, and, forthe moment, not suspect."
The Deputy-Governor of Navarre assented. They could do great thingsfrom this comparatively obscure quarter.
Alvedero spoke again. "Now, first, there is the question of GuyRossett. Contraras and Lucue are agreed that he should be removedspeedily."
Moreno hastened to corroborate. He knew that Violet Hargrave waswatching him narrowly. "The sooner the better," he said heartily. "Heknows too much."
"A great deal too much!" burst in Zorrilta angrily. "The question is,where did he get his information from? Some traitor, of course."Moreno glanced at Violet Hargrave. He had his suspicions of her, butnot a muscle of her countenance moved. His suspicions of her then werenot confirmed. But Violet said nothing in reply to Zorrilta's angryoutburst.
There came a diversion. Father Gonzalo passed the window of the smallsitting-room. His hawklike eye peered through the window.
"_Dios_!" cried Zorrilta, jumping up. "That accursed priest again! Heroves about here like an evil spirit."
"Who is he, this priest?" cried Moreno eagerly. He had seen the leanfigure of the father passing the window, and had noted the keen,inquisitive glance.
Zorrilta explained what he had learned from the intelligent fishermanSomoza. Father Gonzalo was a Jesuit, not attached to the Church ofSanta Gadea. He was suspected of being a spy in the pay of theGovernment.
Moreno rose. "Shall I go and sample this gentleman?" he said. "I canplay the role of the devout Catholic very well."
Zorrilta and Alvedero grinned. They were both nominal Catholics, buttheir religion did not trouble them very much. They were pleased withthe enterprising spirit of their new recruit.
"Go my friend, come back and report to us." Moreno, well pleased,strode out, and soon overtook the priest, who was walking leisurely.
"Good evening, Father," he said pleasantly. He also added a few Spanishwords which were a password.
When he heard those magic words, the priest's lean, ascetic face changedat once.
"You are one of us?" he asked briefly.
"Of course. My name is Moreno. I am attached to the English SecretService, and I am helping your Government to beat the anarchists."
"Good," said Father Gonzalo. "Those people I saw you with in the littlesitting-room at the `Concha,' I know the two well, Zorrilta andAlvedero; the woman I do not know. I take it they are all anarchists.You are joining up with them for your own purposes."
"Precisely," answered Moreno. "Keep your eyes open too. This is, atpresent, the headquarters of the conspiracy."
"My son, good night," said the wily Jesuit in his most paternal tones."We shall meet again. You have, of course, made a good excuse forleaving your friends, and running after me."
Moreno smiled. "When I return I shall give the best report of you, areport that I trust will disarm suspicion. But it is as well to put youon your guard. You have a very keen enemy here, one Carlos Somoza, afisherman. Conciliate him, if you can." The Jesuit's dark eyesflashed. "I know him. The dirty dog. I will be on my guard. I willgo to Santa Gadea, and pray for my sins."
The unctuous priest stole away. Moreno watched his departure with acontemptuous smile. He did not seem a very valiant member of the churchmilitant.
Moreno joined his companions. He addressed them in his usual easyfashion.
"Couldn't get much out of him. I should say he was quite a harmless oldchap, full of good works. He seemed very concerned that I should bedrinking at a place like the `Concha.' He gave me some very goodadvice. I don't think he has brains enough to be a spy."
The other two men laughed. Moreno had carried the affair off so wellthat they believed him implicitly.
Then Alvedero spoke seriously.
"This affair of Guy Rossett was very pressing." He turned to Moreno andViolet Hargrave. "I daresay you know that Lucue has delegated thismatter to me, as being on the spot."
The two members of this conclave of four bowed; they had gathered thismuch before they left England.
"Yesterday, however, I had instructions from our great leader,Contraras," pursued Alvedero; he uttered the name of his chief inaccents of profound reverence. "The affair of Guy Rossett has, for themoment, sunk into comparative insignificance. There is bigger gameafoot."
"Ah!" breathed Moreno eagerly. True to his histrionic instinct, he wasplaying the role of enthusiast very well.
Violet Hargrave, who was never very enthusiastic, thought it well toimitate him, and leaned forward as if eager to catch the next words fromthe great man's lips.
Alvedero spoke slowly. "As you know, in difficult times, we have toproceed with great caution--I cannot divulge all that Contraras hasentrusted me with to-day. To-morrow Valerie Delmonte will be over here!We will meet at the same place and the same hour."
He paused, and then lifted his hands to the low roof of the meansitting-room in which the four were assembled.
"The brain of that man is stupendous, gigantic," he cried, in tones ofthe deepest admiration. "My friends, he has planned a great _coup_, andValerie Delmonte i
s going to carry it out! She is devoted, she isfearless, she will not blench. To-morrow at this hour and this place Iwill take you into the secret; it is possible one of you may be calledupon to assist."
A few minutes later the meeting broke up. There would be an excitingday to-morrow, thought Moreno, as he strolled away.
CHAPTER TEN.
If Lord Saxham had been, in his heart, disappointed that he could notinduce Isobel to cajole her lover away from his post, he was too much agentleman to go back on his word. Besides, he recognised that in thisinstance the girl was right, and he wrong, that she had displayed anobility of spirit which was lacking in himself and his daughter.
He had given his consent to the engagement without imposing conditions,and he could not in