"How do you suppose it happened?"
"No one can tell, senor. He had been dead perhaps half an hour, so the doctors said; no one was with him, and no one was known to have seen him for perhaps an hour before that time. No cry was heard; no sound, indeed; and yet he was dead. The Carlists must have obtained admission to the house secretly, and have escaped as they came."
"Take me to the room," I said, and he led the way in silence. "Show me exactly where he was found." He pointed out the spot. "Now just sit in that chair a moment;" and, much wondering, he took his seat at Quesada's writing table. I stood on the side away from the window, and a glance was enough to show me that his head was in a direct line with the broken pane of glass.
"Was the window fastened?" I asked.
"Yes, I myself examined it."
"That broken pane of glass?"
"It was broken by his Excellency himself to-day, and he had given orders for the repair of it."
The answer surprised me, but a moment's reflection showed me what might have happened.
"How came it broken, and when; do you know?"
"How, I do not know; but it was done when Colonel Livenza was here to-day, closeted with his Excellency. They were, as perhaps you know, senor, closely associated together." There was a furtive, half eager, half alarmed, and wholly cunning look on Rubio's face, which sent the thought flashing upon me that he could say a good deal of Quesada's private matters if he pleased.