The sudden movement and buzz in the group round me caught Monica's attention. She looked, and gave a little cry as our eyes met across the sunlit, open space. Out came her hands, and for an instant I thought she would have run to me; but her mother's quick eyes had identified the man between the civil guards, and she seized Monica by the arm.
“Get back,” said one of the civil guards angrily. “No one is allowed to go nearer to the King.”
“I must speak to those ladies,” I said, shaking one shoulder free.
“Another step, and you'll spend your night between prison walls,” muttered the guard, furious that there should be a scene under the eyes of royalty.
But now the eyes of royalty were upon me, and there was recognition in them. The King held up his hand imperatively.
“Let that gentleman go,” he said. “He is a friend of mine. Señores, I am glad to see you again. Have you come to congratulate me on my marriage?”
The guards stepped back; and the King's question was a command. He said “Señores”; therefore he was speaking to Dick as well as to me. I walked towards him as he stood ready to greet us; and now Dick, who had kept behind in the crowd, was at my side.
Carmona's face grew scarlet, then yellow-pale.
[pg 364] “I beg your Majesty's forgiveness,” he said, “but you cannot know what I know of this man, or you would not receive him. This may be another horrible plot; for he is the Marqués de Casa Triana, suspected of throwing a bomb in Barcelona some years ago, who not only has broken his parole and come secretly to Spain, but has been following you about from place to place in his motor-car, and—”
The King burst out laughing, in his boyish way.