She had resisted this strenuously—she had been home from Paris only about a month at the time; but the utmost pressure had been brought to bear upon her, not only by the visconte and Vasco, but by Barosa and the leaders of the revolutionary party.
For two months she had held out, and had yielded only a month before my arrival.
How this part of the letter stirred me will be readily understood. After my talk with Miralda on the Stella, it was not mere coxcombry on my part to believe that, had I come only a month earlier, I should have found her ready to receive me on the same footing as in those weeks in Paris.
I could understand now the reason for Inez’ warning, Barosa’s references, Sampayo’s instant jealousy, and that regret of the viscontesse that I had not come sooner. They had known the reason for Miralda’s stubborn resistance, and had feared that my arrival would lead to her rebellion.
Vasco’s immediate request was that I would lend him some money—about five hundred pounds—but he freely admitted that even if I consented, the money would not free him from Sampayo.
I sent him a note at once that I would do what he wanted and would have the money ready for him if he would come to me the following evening.
But I made it a condition that he should go on board the Stella at once and remain there until the time for our interview. I did not mean to give Sampayo a chance of frightening him into admitting he had told me. I told Bryant to put the letter into Vasco’s own hands and to go with him to the yacht, and I wrote a line to my skipper with instructions.
It proved to be a prudent precaution. Sampayo returned about midday and as I found out afterwards went everywhere in search of Vasco, before going to his own quarters, where I was waiting.
He had learnt meanwhile that his attempt against me had failed, but he was genuinely surprised to see me when he entered.
“This is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Donnington,” he said.