There were only about half a dozen choice spirits present. Maceda, for this special occasion, had delegated to his manager the task of looking after his comfortable little establishment. Both Lucue and the restaurant keeper greeted their Chief with a sorrowful air. Maceda voiced their mutual sentiments. "The iron must have entered into your soul, comrade. So near to success, and then to fail. And then, the fate of poor Valerie, so bright, so clever, so full of enthusiasm for the cause!" The leader's voice broke a little as he answered: "Alas, poor Valerie--a fate worse than death. How she will eat out that brave heart of hers in their loathsome dungeons!" He passed his hand across his brow, as if in that action he was trying to brush away a painful reminiscence. But the next moment he was again the man of action, of indomitable resolve. "I think never again will I sanction the use of women in enterprises of this character, however willing they may be to take the risk and pay the penalty of failure. And now to our immediate business. How are things progressing in this country?" Both Lucue and Maceda, but especially the former, who had only the business of the propaganda to attend to, gave him a most encouraging report. There was great dissatisfaction amongst the masses, a growing hatred of the class that neither toils nor spins. Many of the most influential leaders were in secret sympathy with their doctrines, and only waited for a favourable moment to come out into the open. The fanatical Contraras rubbed his hands; his brow cleared. He had forgotten Valerie Delmonte, that too responsive instrument upon whose warped feelings he had so skilfully played. She was only a martyr in a righteous cause. He listened eagerly to the details with which Lucue supplied him. He could see already the dawn of that universal revolution which, if it came to pass, would claim him for one of the earliest victims. And then, when Lucue had finished, the elder man spoke a little impatiently. "But why did we fail in Madrid? Have you suspicions of anybody? After all, the secret was very carefully guarded. How many of us knew?" Lucue shrugged his shoulders. "Is it much use going into that? We might all suspect each other. Moreno was over here a short time ago. We conversed together on the subject." "Ah, Moreno was over here, was he?" The Chief's brows knitted; he spoke in a suspicious voice. "Do you know on what business?" "Purely private affairs, I understand. Something connected with his journalistic profession. But we were discussing the matter, and he suggested a very reasonable theory."