"Vidal de Pelayo. No. 25. 1st Section. Saragossa.
"Counting all renegades lovers of Satan. By the grace of God.
(Signed) FERDINAND CARBONNELL."
The signature was written in a fine free hand utterly unlike my own, of course; but there it was confronting me, and signed to a couple of lines that read to me like so much gibberish. I turned it over and handed it back with a laugh; and my thoughts went back again to my first opinion of the man.
"Very interesting, no doubt; and very important, probably, but it does not enlighten me."
"You mean you do not wish to know me? As you will. Then I suppose I must not open my lips to you? But I have seen you; and it is a great day for me!"
"You are right; I wish you to say nothing," I replied, assuming a very grave look and speaking very severely. "You have done wrong to come here at all," I added, seeing the effect of my previous words. "You must not come again."
"You will wish to know that all is going well?" he said, in a tone of remonstrance and surprise.
"I have other means of learning everything," I answered, with a suggestion of mystery, and rose as a hint to him to go.
"You are at the British Embassy here. It is wonderful," he cried, lifting his hands as if in profound admiration.