A day or two later, as the organisation of his mule-train was now complete, and transports were already arriving to embark their four-footed freight, he returned to Gibraltar, meaning to go on to the Crimea without delay.
Of course he went to Bombardier Lane, where he was received by the old people like a favourite son.
Mariquita, blushing and diffident, was scarcely able to realise that her Stanislas was now at liberty to make love to her, openly and without question.
The time, however, for their tender intercourse was all too short. McKay expected hourly the steamer that was to take him eastward, and his heart ached at the prospect of parting. As for Mariquita, she had alternated between blithe joyousness and plaintive, despairing sorrow.
"I shall never see you again, Stanislas," she went on repeating, when the last mood was on her.
"Nonsense! I have come out harmless so far; I shall do so to the end. The Russians can't hurt me."
"But you have other enemies, dearest—pitiless, vindictive, and implacable."
"Whom do you mean? Benito?"
"You know without my telling you. He has shown his enmity, then? How? Oh, Stanislas! be on your guard against that black-hearted man."
Should he tell her of his suspicions that it was Benito who had attacked him at Alicante? No; it would only aggravate her fears. But he tried, nevertheless, to verify these suspicions without letting Mariquita know the secret.