Adventure stories; British -- Spain -- Fiction; Love stories; Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
I had still to learn how the actual abduction was to take place, and I
had two days only in which to find this out. It was already the 14th;
and cast about in my thoughts as I would, I could see no way of
discovering a secret which meant life or death to those who knew it and
would be guarded with sacred jealousy and closeness.
To me it seemed that any attempt of the kind must certainly fail. The
young King was protected and watched with the utmost vigilance; his
movements were not even premeditated and were scarcely ever known long
in advance even to those in the immediate circle of the Palace; he was
never left alone; and the whole arrangements for his safe keeping might
have been framed with an eye to the prevention of just such an attempt
as was now planned.
Yet here were these Carlists fixing a day well ahead for the enterprise,
making all calculations and arrangements, and taking it for certain that
they would have the opportunity which to an onlooker seemed an absolute
impossibility. It baffled me completely that night.
In the course of the next morning I sent a note to Sebastian Quesada
announcing my return and saying I wished to see him; and a note came
back by my messenger asking me to call on him at once at his office.
His greeting could not have been warmer and more cordial had I been his
oldest friend returned after a long absence. At the moment of my
arrival he was engaged, but by his express orders I was shown instantly
to him; he dismissed the officials closeted with him with the remark
that even that business must wait upon his welcome of me; and had I not
discouraged him I am sure he would have kissed me after the Spanish
demonstrative style.
"I have missed you, Ferdinand," he said, using my Christian name for the
first time, and speaking with the effusiveness of a girl. "I have
missed you more than I could have believed possible. Our little chats,
our rides and drives together, have become necessary to me—that is a
selfish view to take of a friend, is it not?—but they have been
delightful breaks in my too strenuous life. When I got your little note
an hour ago I felt almost like a schoolboy whose chief companion has
just come back to school. I was grieved to hear of Lord Glisfoyle’s
death."
We chatted some time and then he surprised me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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