“Heaven knows what the next move will be,” I commented, when the avenger had gone, not too stricken in spirit. “It begins to look as though the enemy would stick at little, and we can't go on giving tit for tat.”
“He won't take open action against you for the present,” said the Cherub, “as he isn't sure you aren't Cristóbal O'Donnel; and you're warned if he tries to strike in the dark. He's probably found out through the Ministry of War that Cristóbal's on leave, so to rid himself of your company he's resorted to the only means which occurred to him.”
“I have to thank you that he had no surer means,” I said.
“It's the fashion in Spain, if a friend wants a thing, to tell him it is his,” replied Colonel O'Donnel. “You wanted me for a [pg 129]father, Pilar for a sister. I said, ‘We are yours.’ There's not much to be thankful for. I would do ten times more for your father's son; and my confessor's a sympathetic man. Besides, to tell you a secret of mine which even Pilar doesn't know, though she has most others at her finger-end, your mother was my first love. I adored her! You have her eyes!”
Whereupon I shook hands with the Cherub.
XVIII
The Man Who Loved Pilar
When Ropes had gone to send a telegram to Paris, Dick and I talked the matter over from so many points of view, that Colonel O'Donnel apparently went to sleep. It was only when I burst into vituperation against Carmona, that the excellent man suddenly showed signs of life.