They talked for a long time about their future plans. When Isobel laid her head upon her pillow that night, she was happier than she had ever been since the day her dear old father died. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. A week had passed since the conversation between Valerie Delmonte and Contraras had taken place. A great function was on at the Royal Palace to-night. All the elite of Madrid would be there. For this special occasion, the leading members of the Spanish section had shifted from Fonterrabia to the capital--Zorrilta, Alvedero, Violet Hargrave, Andres Moreno. Contraras and Valerie Delmonte had already taken up their residence there. It was the night of the great _coup_, on the successful development of which depended the dawn of the new era. Moreno had a busy day. Thanks to the noble-spirited action of Mademoiselle Delmonte, who had taken the entire execution of the _coup_ upon herself, he was spared any active participation in it. Violet Hargrave, who had been originally named as an assistant, was also dispensed with. At eleven o'clock in the morning, he was seated in the private room of the Head of the Spanish Secret Service. There was also present the Head of the Police. The three men talked together for a very considerable time. Moreno was attired in his shabby workman's garb; he had on also a false beard and moustache. When the interview was terminated, Moreno rose; and turned to the Chief of Police. "You have thought it all out then? You know she will come with the Duchess del Pineda." "She will be watched from the moment she enters the Palace to the moment she leaves it," was the chief's confident reply. "And you say that the Duchess is quite ignorant of her intentions?" It was the Chief of the Secret Service who spoke. "I will swear to the innocence of the Duchess, also to that of the Duke. They are simply tools. They have been made use of by a superior intelligence, by a man who has a strong hold over the Duke." "I wish, Mr Moreno, you were able to take us a little more into your confidence. Would it not be possible to bag the whole lot to-night?" The Chief of the Police rubbed his hands at the thought. "Ah, that would be a fine idea. And I suppose, Mr Moreno, you have it in your power to enable us to do so?" "Gently, gentlemen, if you please. Don't be ungrateful. I am helping you somewhat to-night. And because I am doing this, you want to rush things," answered the young journalist in his usual quiet way. "Now, look you, much as I desire to serve you, I have a very tender regard for my own skin." "Naturally," cried the Secret Service man. And the Chief of Police echoed him.