We pushed up the broad steps and into the magnificent room that all Madrid knows and admires, but there was no sign of Livenza; and, having assured ourselves of that, we went on into the smaller saloon used by certain of the constant frequenters of the place. He was there, sitting at a table with a couple of friends, away to the right of the door.
I did not appear to notice him, but led Mayhew to a table at some distance from him, and called a waiter. It was not my cue to force any quarrel. I designed merely to give Livenza an opportunity of doing so if he wished. Acting on a hint from me, Mayhew placed his chair so that he could keep the three at the other table under observation, and, having given an order, we lighted our cigars and began to chat quietly.
"He has seen you," said Mayhew, after a minute or two, "and is speaking of us to the men with him. They are getting up, and, I think, are coming over to us. His face is livid, Ferdinand, and his eyes are burning like those of a man with a fever. What's he going to do? Yes, they are moving this way."
I pulled myself together, continued to smoke calmly, and, leaning forward, went on chatting unconcernedly as I waited for the approach of the man whose heart, I knew, was a very furnace of rage and jealous hate of me. And I will confess it was a tense, exciting moment.
CHAPTER XIII
THE FIGHT
The Red Saloon at the Café de l'Europe, as the room they were in was termed, was a well-frequented resort, and at that hour in the evening was generally full of visitors. But that night there were more empty tables than usual, and at one of these, quite close to us, Livenza and his two companions stopped and sat down. They were well within earshot, and Mayhew, after a warning glance to me, began to speak on indifferent subjects.
I did not for a moment understand Livenza's intention, but it was soon made unmistakably clear. When the three had ordered some fresh drinks, they began to speak on the topic which was in all Spaniards' thoughts at the moment—the strain with the United States and the probable action of England. The conversation began quietly, and Livenza himself took no part in it for some minutes. The references to England grew gradually more bitter, however, until Mayhew was getting restive.
"There'll be a row if we stop here," he leant forward and whispered. "And you know how urgent the chief is about not getting into a mess."
"Wait," I whispered back. "This is only a blind."