"_Dios_! If that is really so, then we must discover more about him," he said. "I trust, however, you are wrong, for, as you say, he might recognise me again. And that would certainly be most awkward in my position--as Deputy-Governor of the Province of Navarre." "Yes, Excellency, that is why I cursed him," replied the intelligent fisherman, with a smile. "At our meeting last Thursday, we discussed whether Father Gonzalo should not meet with--well, meet with an accident." "No, no!" replied the other quickly, raising his voice because at the moment a heavy cart, with its great wood disc wheels, drawn by two white bulls and laden with wine barrels, rumbled past them slowly over the cobbles. "Not here--that would never do, never! It would upset all our plans! We must be cautious--_always cautious_. Watch him, and report to me in the usual way--a letter to the Poste Restante in Madrid. I will at once inquire all about this mysterious Father, and the reason he has come to Fonterrabia. He may, as you suspect, be an agent of the Ministry in disguise." "We are quite certain that he is." "If so, he must not remain here," declared the stranger decisively. "It would certainly be extremely dangerous for you, and for all your friends. The success of our _coup_ depends upon entire secrecy. Your little circle here have ever been loyal and undaunted. There must be no betrayal, as there was, you recollect, in Barcelona before the war." "Barcelona is a city, Fonterrabia is only a little town, and hence it should escape suspicion," was the educated young fisherman's remark. "Ours we know to be a just and honest cause, and we all, as sons of Spain, are each of us prepared willingly to sacrifice our lives if necessary." "Well said, Carlos! Our gallant leader, Ferdinand Contraras, who has lately sacrificed most of his great fortune to secure the salvation of Spain, is aware of your loyalty," Zorrilta assured him. "A little time ago I was with him at one of our secret sessions at Toledo, and he mentioned you, and your friends here--and praised you for your patriotism as a true son of Spain." "But the Englishman! What of him?" asked Carlos, as, strolling slowly, they were approaching the great old church. "That Englishman? Oh, yes, I know. You have serious and perhaps foolish apprehensions in that direction," was the reply of the Deputy-Governor of Navarre. "But, Carlos, you can rest assured that we shall have no real trouble from that quarter. He will die--as the others have done. And he will die very soon!" "_You are quite certain of that_?" asked the fisherman eagerly. "Quite. It is all arranged--an accident--a mystery--and nothing more," laughed the man from Madrid. "The Englishman is our most serious enemy," declared Carlos, as yet only half convinced. "One by one the enemies of our own Spanish people have been swept away. He will very soon follow them--rest assured. _De los enemigos los menes_--the fewer enemies the better."