Whither Thou Goest Part 33

These bitter reflections rather tended to harden than soften her resolution. To-night she was an avenging angel, bent upon the task of making these insolent people atone for the insults heaped upon the lowly-born.

Once in her triumphant progress she came near to Contraras, who was standing alone, surveying the brilliant scene with his keen, deep-set eyes.

She disengaged herself from the arm of her companion, a handsome young man of some standing in Spanish Society.

"Excuse me a moment. I see an old friend, to whom I must say a few words."

"What do you think of it all?" she whispered, as she held out her hand.

"What I have always thought of such spectacles as these," he whispered back. "These besotted creatures feast and dance and make merry, without a thought of their oppressed and toiling fellow-creatures." He spoke intensely, in the most bitter spirit of his gloomy fanaticism.

She could not linger, "My nerves are in perfect order," she a.s.sured him as she turned away. He smiled kindly at her as she pa.s.sed on.

The amiable and innocent d.u.c.h.ess had performed the duties of chaperon so well, had introduced her to so many people, that it was a long time before Valerie could shake herself free. It was a very crowded a.s.semblage. If she could once break away, she would be free to roam where she pleased.

The moment came at last, close upon midnight. She was alone and mistress of her own movements. Her thoughts were no longer distracted by the idle chatter of some companion forced upon her.

Slowly, she edged her way towards the Royal circle. Progress was a little difficult, but at last she stood within a few feet of the King and Queen. She stood for a few moments, perhaps summoning up her courage. Then her hand stole towards her pocket.

Before she could reach it, a little cordon was formed round her, a cordon of six men in ordinary evening dress. The hand of one of the men gripped hers, and held it in a grasp of iron.

"Come quietly, mademoiselle," whispered a voice in her ear. "We have followed you round all the evening, we fancied there was something suspicious about you. We may, of course, be mistaken, but in these troublous times we have to be very careful. We will take you to a private room, and have you searched. Of course, if nothing is found upon you, you will go free, and we will make you handsome amends."

Valerie gave a little choking sob. The gipsy's prophesy had come true-- several years of hard life, a few years of good fortune, and then great tribulation.

"I came here with the d.u.c.h.ess del Pineda," she said in a broken voice, hardly knowing what she was saying. "Do you dare to suspect--"

It was the Head of the Police who held her wrist in that iron grasp. He spoke in a suave voice.

"Mademoiselle, we always suspect in our profession. For the d.u.c.h.ess del Pineda I have the highest respect. Will you consent to come quietly?

If we are in the wrong, you have nothing to fear."

She turned with them without a word. She had failed miserably. The upholders of law and order had scored signally over the scattered and imperfect organisation of the brotherhood.

Between them, she walked through the long, brilliantly-lit rooms. The Chief of Police tucked her arm under his, keeping a tight hold on her wrist. The other five men accompanied them. There was nothing in the general att.i.tude to suggest that she was not a very charming woman being escorted by a bevy of admirers.

Contraras was standing by the door as the procession pa.s.sed out.

Agitated as she was, she saw him, and flashed at him an agonised glance.

He flashed back at her a glance equally eloquent. He knew the Chief of Police by sight, and he understood what had happened. Poor little Valerie had failed! They would take her to some room, and search her.

In her pocket they would find those cunning little bombs that, once launched, would have sent tyrants and oppressors hurling into s.p.a.ce, and proclaimed the dawn of the new era.

Poor little Valerie! His eyes grew misty. As she had failed, it would have been better if he had left her alone. If ever he felt remorse in his life, he felt it that night.

His first impulse was to leave the Palace at once. But wiser thoughts prevailed. The Chief of Police had recognised him, he was sure. If he left immediately, it might give cause for suspicion.

Valerie had failed. For the moment the Cause had suffered a set-back.

But his resolution was still undaunted, his brain still active. Because he had failed to-day, it did not follow that he would not be successful to-morrow.

He sought out the d.u.c.h.ess del Pineda, who was, as usual, surrounded by a group of chattering friends.

"Good evening, d.u.c.h.ess. What has become of our young friend, Mademoiselle Delmonte?"

"I really cannot tell you. She broke away from me a long time ago. She has been a tremendous success, I can a.s.sure you. I hope she intends to make a long stay in Madrid. She will be most popular."

"I really cannot tell you. I know nothing of her plans," answered Contraras in his grave, quiet tones. "As I told the Duke, I met her in France and England, where she appeared to move in the best circles."

"Naturally," said the innocent d.u.c.h.ess. n.o.body would suspect the highly respected Contraras of telling a deliberate lie.

Outside the Palace, the crowd had thinned, but Moreno and Violet Hargrave still waited. Midnight had struck and all was quiet. There were no signs that heralded the happening of a tragedy. A few belated arrivals pa.s.sed through to the Palace. The crowd began to melt away.

And then there was a little stir. A carriage drove up outside the Palace doors. Two men and a woman stepped into it, the woman was in evening dress.

The carriage pa.s.sed the two watchers. Mrs Hargrave peered into the slowly-moving vehicle.

"Valerie Delmonte," she whispered excitedly. "There is a man sitting beside her, one of those two men I noticed driving in--don't you remember I said they looked people of importance, and you said you did not know them from Adam. What does it mean? Valerie alone with those men?"

"It looks as if the _coup_ had failed," replied Moreno quietly. "I should say that Valerie has been caught, and those two men are members of the police."

Mrs Hargrave grew a little hysterical. "Thank G.o.d, it was not myself,"

she added, after a pause. "I am glad it was not you."

Moreno was about to reply when another carriage drove through, the occupant of which was Contraras. His tall form seemed huddled up; he was evidently in a state of extreme dejection.

Moreno tucked Mrs Hargrave's arm under his own.

"Come along! Evidently the _coup_ has failed; the police have been one too many for us. Valerie Delmonte going away with those two men, poor old Contraras huddled up in that carriage, his att.i.tude expressing that all is lost, at any rate, for the moment! We have nothing to wait for.

We shall hear all about it to-morrow."

They walked along arm in arm, both occupied with their own thoughts.

Mrs Hargrave broke the long silence.

"He is a wonderful man. If he is dejected to-night, he will be full of energy and vigour to-morrow." Moreno agreed. "Yes, he will think of more _coups_. I suppose the next one will be the removal of Mr Rossett."

Violet made no answer immediately. Then, presently she said. "I fancy he is considered a rather dangerous person from our point of view."

Moreno shrugged his shoulders. "And yet I fancy his removal would not greatly hasten the new era, do you? He is really a quite insignificant person. If Valerie had brought it off to-night, well and good--but I must confess these minor developments don't interest me greatly. Do they interest you?"

"A little, I think," answered Mrs Hargrave, in a somewhat faint voice.

Moreno looked at her steadfastly. Her nerves were a bit out of order to-night. That long vigil outside the Palace had told on them--that waiting for the crash of the bombs which Valerie Delmonte had carried in her pocket, the bombs which now had been appropriated by the Chief of Police.

He gave her arm a tender pressure. "I believe at bottom you are really a womanly woman. The end justifies the means, of course, but some of the means are very bloodthirsty, don't you think?"

"I thought so to-night, when I was waiting to hear the crash of those devilish, cunning little bombs, the latest invention of science, as our good old Contraras a.s.sures us."

Moreno pulled himself up; perhaps he had been a little too frank. But he knew that the photographed letter always gave him the whip-hand of Violet Hargrave.

"Still, we must not be squeamish. Revolutions are not made with rose-water, and you must break eggs to make omelettes."