"Juan Ballester," said she.
I had half expected the name.
"He spoke of himself," she resumed. "Sometimes it is not easy to tell whether he is acting or whether he is serious. It was easy to-night. He was serious."
"What did he say?"
"That up till to-night all had been work with him.... That to-night had set the crown upon his work.... That now for the first time he could let other hopes, other thoughts, have play...."
"Yes, I see," I replied slowly. "Having done his work, he wants his prize. He would."
Ballester had toiled untiringly for thirteen years in both open and devious ways, and, as the consequence of his toil, he had lifted his Republic into an importance which it had never possessed before. He had succeeded because what he wanted, he wanted very much. It certainly looked as if there were considerable trouble in front of Olivia and Harry Vandeleur--especially Harry Vandeleur.
"So he wants you to marry him," I said; and Olivia gave me one swift look and turned her head away.
"No," she answered in a whisper. "He wants his revenge, too."
"Revenge?" I exclaimed.