Adventure stories; British -- Spain -- Fiction; Love stories; Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
"I don’t know, but she is sure to be well cared for," she answered, as
though the subject was no concern of hers; and no more was said until we
were close to the house. Then, with some hesitation, she said: "I know
nearly everything of my brother’s plans, and shall be present at the
interview. There must be a full understanding."
I made no reply, for I did not quite know what she meant; but I was
certain that if there was to be anything like a full understanding the
interview promised to be interesting; and I began to feel glad I had
come.
Quesada was at home, and in the room where I had had my last
conversation with him and my introduction to Rubio, and I found him
looking much more concerned and anxious than I had ever seen him.
"What is the meaning of this visit?" was his blunt greeting.
"I have brought Senor Carbonnell," said Dolores, "that these things may
be explained and talked over. I wished it, Sebastian."
"Very well; what does he want to explain?"
"You told me to-night, for the second time, that he could and would ruin
you if he was set at liberty. I wish to have peace between you. I told
you so, when I insisted on his being liberated; and I have told him so,
too. Now that you are face to face, say plainly what this means, and
how it is to be avoided."
"When women interfere in matters they don’t understand, they always do
something foolish. This is mere foolishness. Senor Carbonnell—or, to
give him his proper title, Lord Glisfoyle—is bent upon doing his utmost
to ruin me, and you have given him the opportunity. Why, then, seek to
delay him in his purpose? Let him go and begin his task." He spoke
quite firmly, and with great deliberateness.
"This is hopeless, Sebastian," cried his sister, wringing her hands.
"What would you have me do, Dolores? Assume a fear of him which I do
not feel? Throw myself at his feet and beg his mercy, when I stand in
no need of it? Play at theatricals? You are a woman, we are men; and
you don’t understand us or our methods. Lord Glisfoyle and I have been
engaged in a duel to the death. I had him at my advantage when you
interfered—for the second time. You have given him the advantage now,
and the cue is with him. He holds, or thinks he holds, weapons which he
can use to secure my ruin; and you seem to think you can induce him not
to use them by bringing him here to talk over, as you call it, the
position. I am sure he did not come willingly, and am surprised he came
at all; but here or anywhere else—except, of course, in safe keeping—it
is all one to me. We shall continue the duel under the circumstances
which you have changed in this way to my disadvantage."
"I was leaving Spain when your men stopped me and brought me to Madrid,"
I said.
"But not alone," he rapped out, sharply.
"No, with the lady who is to be my wife," I retorted.
For a second his hands clenched involuntarily, and he winced, but
instantly recovered himself, and spoke calmly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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