given them he asked de Richleau if he had any comments and the Duke replied:
'Your Majesty must pardon me if I appear to lay undue stress on the importance of my own arm, but in campaigns of this type the value of cavalry cannot be rated too highly. The enemy is not tied to roads and railheads, he does not need great masses of transport, siege trains, field hospitals and so on to be brought up before he can fight a battle. His mobility enables him to strike with maximum force at one point and only a few days later at another a hundred or more miles away from it. Battalions of infantry can rarely move fast enough to get at him; so their use is limited to holding valuable key points such as oases and valleys through the mountains in which advancing troops might otherwise be ambushed. You might, of course, use them with advantage if you built a series of blockhouses, as Lord Kitchener did in South Africa; but short of establishing such a chain of garrisons to split up the tribes so that they can be dealt with piecemeal in each area, only a force of cavalry at least equal in size to the enemy will enable you to take the initiative and engage him at times of your own choosing until he is finally defeated.'
The Generals, knowing that de Richleau had been appointed a Chief Instructor at St. Cyr following his successes in desert warfare, listened to him with respect, and for over two hours the six men continued to discuss the finer points of the war against the hardy warriors of the Riff.
Before the party broke up the Duke managed to get a private word with Don Alfonso, and said, 'I had hoped, Sir, that you had sent for me today to tell me that you were ready to let me off my chain.'
The King smiled, but shook his head. 'No, my friend. It will be some weeks yet before I'll agree to your paying another visit to Barcelona. Please continue to amuse yourself here for a while longer.' And de Richleau felt that he had no alternative but to say that he would.
As it was a Saturday, Conde Ruiz was at the Cordoba villa for the week-end, and Gulia had arranged a dinner party for that evening, to which she had invited de Richleau. When he got back to his hotel after the long session at the Palace, he was, therefore, much surprised to find a note from her which ran:
The Duke naturally wondered what the cause of this upset could be, and the only thing he could think of was that the Banco de Coralles might be faced with some major financial crisis. That was certainly a possibility as Spain had not yet fully recovered from the drain made on her resources by the Spanish-American war, and the great expense now entailed by the war in Morocco was already forcing down the value of the peseta.
If that was so, de Richleau thought, it was particularly unfortunate that de Cordoba was in South America and, even if recalled at once, could not be expected to arrive on the scene for at least three weeks; for Ruiz, although an intelligent man, was not a very forceful personality. It was Jose de Cordoba who really ran the great banking concern and whose brain would be needed to cope successfully with any considerable emergency.
The words 'measures to be taken' in Gulia's note seemed to imply that her husband had appointed her as one of a family committee of Trustees to handle his affairs while he was abroad and - if a financial crisis was the trouble - they might be considering selling some part of the vast family estates to bolster up the Bank's credit. The Duke could only hope for all their sakes that his speculations had no foundation, and spent his time on Sunday with other friends.
When on the Monday morning he arrived at the beach he found Gulia, the Infanta, the two duennas and two young couples who were friends of Gulia's already there, and he was relieved to see that the whole party seemed to be in good spirits. Conde Ruiz had taken the express back to Madrid that morning.
It was not until they were in the sea that de Richleau had any chance for a private word with Gulia. Then, as they were swimming side by side, he said, 'I do hope that this family trouble you mentioned in your note to me was nothing very serious, and that you have succeeded in dealing with it.'
Turning on her side she blew out a mouthful of water, then replied, T want to tell you about it, but this is no place to do so. Come back after the siesta. There will be no one else here then and we can talk. But I can't ask you to stay on to dinner.'
More mystified than ever he returned to the town for lunch, whiled away the afternoon, then went out to the villa again at five o'clock. Much to his surprise, instead of taking him through to the garden the butler showed him into the small library on the right of the hall. Gulia was sitting there doing nothing with her hands folded in her lap. There was no sign of Dona Eulalia.
As soon as the door had closed behind him, he said, 'My dear, I've been quite worried about you. What is this mystery? Is there anything I can do to help?'
Her face remained expressionless but her big dark eyes held his as she slowly shook her head. 'No, Armand. There is nothing that any of us can do. Jose is dead.'
19
When the Heart is Young
For a moment de Richleau stared at her, hardly believing that he could have heard her aright, but she nodded and repeated, 'Jose is dead. Ruiz brought me the news on Friday night. When I got your message that you were commanded to lunch at the Palace on Saturday, so would bathe from the Casino beach instead of here that morning, I was glad that I didn't have to see you then. I needed a little time to get over the shock.'
'But . . . But,' he stammered, 'why has no announcement been made? Why this morning's bathing party when the house should be in mourning? And you! Damn it, Gulia, you are dressed in pale blue!'
'Come and sit down,' she said, 'and I'll tell you about it.'
As he took a chair opposite to her, she went on, 'When Jose was out one day catching butterflies on the banks of the Amazon he was attacked by a puma and terribly mauled. With him he had only Patricio Lopex, the valet who has looked after him for years, and the Brazilian crew of the river boat he had hired for his expedition. Patricio and the natives did everything for him that they could, but before they could even get him to a township he died from his wounds. For most of the time, though, he remained conscious, and he was terribly worried about the Bank.'
Gulia paused for a moment and asked for a cigarette. The Duke gave her one and lit it. Then she resumed. 'He had devoted his life to it, and from being quite a small private concern he made it into a great one. Everyone knew that he really was the Bank - its heart and brain - and when he realized that he was dying he was worried that the news of his death might cause a run on it.'
'I can understand that,' de Richleau nodded. 'From your note I got the idea that the Bank was faced with some kind of crisis. But not, of course, the sort that Jose's death might bring about.'
'He dictated a letter to Patricio and signed it. The letter was to Ruiz and in it he said that he wished the news of his death to be suppressed for at least two months. During them Ruiz was to call in all doubtful loans and convert all speculative securities into gold. By these means, when the news of his death was eventually made public the reserves of the Bank would be so large that no run on it could possibly affect its solvency. He then swore Patricio to secrecy and gave him the money to pay off the boat's crew, with three months' wages in advance if they swore on the Cross that they would not leave their native village for that time. Patricio promised to come home in the first fast ship he could find and he arrived in Madrid on Wednesday.'
'I see,' said the Duke after a moment. 'So you are all having to continue to live as though you did not know that Jose was dead. What an extraordinary situation.'
'It is. But what else can we do? Ruiz says that but for Jose's thought for us as he lay dying, in view of the Moroccan crisis that is already rocking the financial stability of the country, the Bank might well have had to close its doors - anyhow temporarily. As it is, if the secret of Jose's death can be kept for six or eight weeks he feels no doubt about being able to face any demands when it is announced.'
'How many people are in the secret?'
'Only Patricio, Ruiz and myself; and, of course, when Ruiz next comes here you must in no circumstances let him know that I have confided our secret to you. We both promised that we would keep it absolutely to ourselves.'
'I fully understand that. But did Ruiz not even tell his wife?'
'No. Maria Alfonsine would have been safe enough in herself, but she confides everything to Dona Isabella; and she is a born gossip. Besides, it was not necessary. Ruiz had to tell me. After all, I am Jos6's widow. If he had not obtained my consent to concealing Jose's death for the time being, and carrying on, I might have made great
