Vendetta in Spain

she did not seek to hide her delight at having as her guest a Grandee of Spain who was on terms of friendship with the King.

They dined en famille, the Senorita Mercedes making a silent fourth. During the meal the Senora pressed de Richleau to tell her all the latest gossip of San Sebastian, dragging in at every opportunity the names of noble families with whom she was acquainted. The Duke politely obliged, but he felt sorry for the girl, as it was clear to him that her mother would consent to her marrying nothing less than a Marquis; so she had little chance of fulfilling her romance with the handsome Captain Juan Escalante.

After the ladies had left the table de Richleau did not see them again that night. He and Quiroga sat over their wine for upward of two hours, while the General gave an interesting account of the revolt and they had a long discussion about anarchists.

In the morning de Richleau dressed himself in a ready-made suit that he had bought on his last afternoon in San Sebastian, then walked across to the General's office. The tall, bearded Veragua reported there promptly at eight o'clock, and the Duke was somewhat surprised to find that he had arrived in an automobile. In 1906, when de Richleau had learned to drive de Vendome's Hispano Suiza, motor-cars had still been a wonder for crowds to gape at. On his return to Spain he had noticed that many rich people in

San Sebastian now owned them, but for them to be used by the police seemed quite an innovation.

Veragua told him that the Security Bureau kept a dozen machines at the disposal of its officers and, as he had learned to drive one, he had felt that they might get from place to place at which 'Senor Goma' wished to question people quicker than by any other means.

De Richleau was pleased that his tall young assistant should have shown such initiative, and they set off down the hill into the city to Police Headquarters. There, from the bald-headed Coman-dante, the Duke received his warrant, then they started on a long round of visits.

As a first bet de Richleau went to the apartment in which the Luques had entertained him to dinner, for it was Doctor Luque who had introduced him to Ferrer. But he learned from the porter of the block that some fifteen months earlier the Luques had left for Cartagena, where they had relatives, and that the Doctor had bought a practice there.

They then went to the Cafe Ronda, at which Dr. Luque had introduced de Richleau to Ferrer; but the proprietor said that he had not seen Ferrer since the revolt and had no idea where he had got to. Throughout the morning and, ignoring the siesta hours, all through the afternoon, they drove to one place after another at which the Duke hoped that he might pick up some trace of his quarry. These were shops that de Richleau knew to have supplied Ferrer with books, others that had supplied the Escuela Moderna with food, restaurants at which he and members of his staff had dined, and cafes they had frequented.

In the majority of cases, in order to avoid its being realized that he was connected with the police, de Richleau left Veragua and the car fifty yards away down the street. Sometimes he announced himself as Senor Carlos Goma, an old friend of Ferrer's, and furtively inquired his whereabouts; at others he resumed his identity of Nicolai Chirikov, once a master at the Escuela Moderna, who, after a long absence from Barcelona, wanted to be put in touch again with the Chief whom he had found such an interesting personality. Occasionally, with those whom he suspected knew something but would not talk, he produced his police pass and threatened them with incarceration in the fortress of Montjuich. But his efforts were of no avail.

Throughout the whole day he drew nothing but blanks and returned a little before eight o'clock in the evening, tired out and cursing the fact that he must again over dinner be subjected to the Senora Quiroga's insatiable appetite for gossip about the Court.

Next day he continued his investigation, mainly on scraps of information he had extracted from various sources. He called on Ferrer's tailor, barber, dentist and a number of his ex-pupils, but neither cajolery nor threats produced any result.

It was not until after he had given Veragua lunch at a small fish restaurant that he remembered the foreman miller's daughter. Thinking again of that fateful night on which Sanchez had first wished to slit his throat, then burn him in a furnace, he recalled Dolores Mendoza saying with a sneer that as Ferrer had gone out to the mill for a conference he would certainly not return until morning, as he 'never missed a chance of a tumble with that hot little piece Teresa Conesa'.

De Richleau had never had an opportunity to learn exactly where the mill was situated, so he had Veragua drive him out to the hospital to which he had been taken. At his request a secretary in the office there turned up the entry recording the admission of himself and Pedro Conesa and from that he got the address of the mill at which they had received their injuries.

It was some way inland on the south-west outskirts of the city and they drove to it. Leaving Veragua outside, de Richleau crossed the yard to the foreman's little house. As he did so he cast a glance at the tall, square stack of the mill building that had such terrifying memories for him; then he rang the bell of the door through which he had been carried rolled up in a carpet.

It was opened by a buxom woman. Her husband proved to be the third successor to Conesa, but as he had been employed at the mill for the past ten years they had known Pedro and his daughter well. The woman said that for the best part of two years the girl had been married. She was now a Senora Irujo and lived in a village about two miles further out.

Having obtained a description of her cottage de Richleau walked back to the car and told his eager young assistant that he thought they really might have got on to something at last, as he had succeeded in tracing one of Ferrer's ex-mistresses, who was much more likely to know what had become of him than any shopkeeper or cafe proprietor. When they reached the village he followed his usual practice of leaving Veragua with the car about fifty yards short of their destination and proceeded to it on foot.

He found Teresa at home. She was a sluttish-looking young woman with a heavy jowl and strong hips, but fine eyes and a good figure. At the moment he arrived at the open doorway of her cottage she was busy in the kitchen cooking a conserve of melons. Fearful that it might boil over if neglected, without even inquiring his business she threw open the door of a frowsty sitting-room and asked him to wait.

Six or seven minutes later she joined him, carrying an infant on her arm; a toddler clutched at her skirt, and a wide-eyed thumb-sucker of about two-and-a-half pattered in after her.

As she had never seen de Richleau she had no idea that it was he who, by a judo grip, had brought about her father's death. In case the name of Chirikov might ring a bell with her, he presented himself as Carlos Goma, an old friend of her father's who had recently returned from four years in the United States.

He said that the woman who now lived in the foreman's house at the mill had told him of Pedro's death and he had been greatly distressed to hear of it. Then he went on to speak of those exciting days when he had formed one of the group that had planned the bomb-throwings, making casual mention of the bald-headed Manuel, young Alvaro Barbestro, the Ferrer brothers, Mateo Morral, Dolores Mendoza and the German, Schmidt.

At first she regarded him with obvious suspicion, but he talked with such intimate knowledge of her father's friends that after a little she thawed out. She told him that in the summer of 1906 the group had been betrayed by a French spy, which had resulted in the Escuela Moderna being raided and closed, and that for a year the activities of the group had been brought almost to a standstill through most of them being in prison. She added that Barbestro had been shot for an attempt on General Quiroga and Sanchez Ferrer killed in a brawl in Cadiz.

He then asked her about the recent revolt. She described some fights that had taken place locally and the brutality with which the soldiers had treated the workers after they had forced the barricades. Several of her friends had been killed or wounded, and her husband had been among the latter, although fortunately the bullet that hit him had only taken off the lobe of his left ear. She added that, what with the fighting and the arrests that had taken place after it, the ranks of the anarchists had been sadly thinned, and those who had escaped were now all in hiding.

Having deplored this sad state of things, he remarked what hard luck it was on him that the revolt should have taken place only a few weeks before his return, and so deprived him of the chance to renew his old friendships; then he said in his most winning tone:

'But perhaps you could put me in touch with some of them, or know people who could. How about Benigno Ferrer? I hope he is all right. He was a particular friend of mine.'

She shook her head. 'I've no idea where Benigno is; but he wasn't killed or captured in the revolt. I believe that during it he was somewhere abroad.'