The murder had been committed about two hours and a half before I had got to Quesada's house; I had been there about one hour; and thus Livenza would have three and a half hours' start of us. From this we might deduct the time he would spend in Madrid before setting out for Escorias; but as he would be in fear of discovery, I dared not hope that he would remain a minute longer than would be necessary to procure a horse or some kind of conveyance. His own horses would be at his immediate disposal, of course; and if he had had them at hand, he might have started the instant after he had shot his enemy. This would give him quite three hours' start, even allowing for the quicker pace at which we were following in pursuit. And in three hours what could he not do?
There was, of course, room to hope that he might have had to return to his house to make some preparations for his flight; and I harassed and worried myself with a hundred speculations about this: whether he would not have gone to Quesada's with everything in readiness for flight; or whether he had thought that he would be taken at once, or even killed by Quesada, and had thus set his affairs in order before going. To speculate on his actions in such a case, was, however, of no more value than to count the waves on the seashore; and I got no further than an ever-consuming desire for yet greater speed.
"Close there now, senor," cried Rubio, at last, looking out of the window into the gloom. "A few minutes."
"Thank Heaven for that," I exclaimed, fervently.
"And that we've escaped a smash at that mad pace." We had left the high road, and were going less rapidly along a narrow country lane, and could speak without so much effort. "It's going to be a wild night," he added.
"I wish we were there, or rather that we could have been there two hours ago."
"I think we shall be in time, senor. The place is not easy to find. I think it will be all right there."
When the carriage stopped I sprang out, followed by Rubio, and hurried up to the house, which lay back some distance from the lane, along a rough, ill-kept carriage drive.
"It's evidently all right, senor. If anything had happened we should see some signs of it," said my companion, as he knocked loudly. A man opened the door, and touched his forehead as he recognised Rubio. "Good evening, Carlos. All well here?"
"All well, Senor Rubio;" and at the word I breathed a deep sigh of relief.