“You may not find it so easy to get out of Spain. It will be known that you are in Madrid, and then they will watch for you.”
“I tricked them once,” laughed Esparto, confidently, “and I can do so again. They will not capture me.”
“I trust you are right. You have done me a great service to-night, and it is but fair that I should do what I could in return. I will give you letters of introduction to persons in America whom it will be a good thing for you to know.”
“You are very kind, young señor. You are as generous as you are brave. I will accept such letter ... with thanks.”
“Where can we go that I may write them, for it is possible I shall not see you again after we part to-night?”
“That is true. I shall be forced to change my disguise, and I shall leave Madrid as soon as possible after seeing Zuera. If you are wise, you will not delay in getting out of Spain. To-morrow it may be charged against you that you aided Esparto, the revolutionist, and you may find yourself arrested. It can avail you nothing to remain here, and it may cost you your liberty—your very life. Be warned and get away as soon as possible.”
“I will do so, señor.”
Frank was impressed by the words of the Valencian, for he realized that the shot he had fired in the saloon might make him a criminal in the eyes of the Spanish government. Obstinacy is not courage, and no one knew it better than Frank.
“You are wise,” said Esparto. “Villasca hates you and it is plain that Gonzalez has no love for you. Your enemies may combine against you.”
“I will leave Madrid by the first train in the morning.”