I had been at the Hotel de la Paix for about ten days, when on returning late one night from visiting with Miss Andrews the celebrated Verbena de la Paloma--the famous fair held in the Calle de la Paloma--I found, to my surprise, Duperre awaiting me. I explained the situation, but when I mentioned the presence of old Lloyd's niece his countenance instantly fell. "Why in the name of Fate did the old fool bring her here?" he exclaimed. "I thought he would come alone!" "She's quite a nice girl," I remarked. "Full of high spirits and vitality." But Duperre only grunted, and I saw by the expression of his face that he was far from pleased that the old man was not alone. "I don't want to be introduced yet," he said. "At present, though we can meet here in the hotel, we must be strangers outside." "And what is the game?" I demanded boldly, for we were together in my bedroom overlooking the great square and the door was locked. "Nothing that concerns you, Hargreave," was his hard reply. "I know you're foolishly squeamish about some things. Well, in this affair just act as Rudolph orders and don't trouble about the consequences." I realized that some evil was intended. Yet it was prevented by the presence there of Sylvia Andrews. What could it be? Next day I met uncle and niece as usual, and we went for a motor ride together out to Aranjuez, where we saw the Palacio Real, and then on to Toledo where we visited the wonderful cathedral and the great Elcazar. I did not get back to the hotel till past ten o'clock that night, but I found Duperre anxious and perturbed. Why, I failed to understand, except that he seemed filled with annoyance that his plans had somehow gone awry. Two days later when I called at the Ritz with the intention of accompanying Mr. Lloyd and his niece over the mountains to Valladolid, I found them both greatly excited. "Sylvia had a telegram an hour ago recalling her to London as her mother is ill, and I am going with her. I cannot allow her to travel alone. We leave by the express at six o'clock this evening," Mr. Lloyd said. "I am so very sorry to depart so suddenly, Mr. Hargreave. We were both enjoying our visit so much," he added apologetically. This surprised me until I returned to my hotel to luncheon, when Duperre, meeting me eagerly in the hall, asked: "Well, is the girl going?" "Yes," I said. "How do you know?" He smiled meaningly, and I felt that in all probability the telegram recalling the girl had been sent at his instigation, as indeed I afterwards knew it had been. So cleverly had matters been arranged by the crooks that Mrs. Andrews was actually very unwell. "Yes, she's off to-night--and the old man also," I said, glad that he was to get out of the mysterious danger that undoubtedly threatened him. "What!" cried my companion, staggered. "Is the old fellow actually leaving also? At what time?" "By the six o'clock train--the express to Irun," I replied.