"I do not think our interview need be a very long one, and I will state my object at once. It concerns Sarita Castelar. I know that preparations for decisive action against the Carlists have been made, and that all is in readiness for the signal from you. I have just heard very terrible news in the city to-night, concerning a mad wild act of theirs, and being anxious for a reassurance on the senorita’s account, I have come to ask you for it." "You will do more wisely not to interfere in our political matters," he answered curtly, with a frown at the mention of Sarita. "I am obliged, of course, by your friendly counsel; but excuse me if I say I have not come for advice, but information." "I have none to give you;" and his tone was even sharper than before. It was as stern and hard indeed as his look was dour. But in a moment a great change came. His eyes softened and his face brightened, and, using the tone of our former intercourse, he added: "Why can’t we remain friends, Carbonnell? Why do you come to me like this? It is but an hour or two since we parted, and nothing can have occurred since that need estrange us; and there was no cloud between us then. Don’t you think I wish to be your friend now as I did then?" I looked at him in considerable surprise. His overtures did not touch me in the least; I was searching for his motive and could not find it. "Before you and I can speak again of friendship, there are matters which must be explained," I answered, coldly. "Since I saw you this afternoon, you have impliedly accused me of complicity in this Carlist business: I have that from the doctor whom you frightened away from Colonel Livenza’s house. You have also intervened in the quarrel between Colonel Livenza and myself—a quarrel which had its origin in an errand on which you sent him." He listened closely, and was too skilled in masking his looks to give any indication of the effect of my words. But I thought he was surprised when I stopped, having said so little. "Your quarrel with Livenza was the outcome of the scene at the Café de l’Europe, where the hot-headed fool insulted you." "No, that was the open cause. The real one was the result of his coming to Senorita Castelar’s at the time I was there—a visit timed by you." "Livenza is in love with the senorita, and hopes to marry her; and you know how some of us Spaniards feel on such matters. But what is this to me?" "You had given me good news to carry to her, you knew when I was going, and you sent Livenza there. What happened afterwards was the direct consequence." "It is preposterous!" he cried, with a shrug of the shoulders. "As if I could be responsible for what two angry men do when they quarrel. Really!" and he laughed. Clearly he was relieved that I had nothing worse to say. "I am glad at any rate that you have not hurt each other." This with a scarcely veiled sneer.