All the extra power of the Lecomte gave no advantage over the Gloria here. Fate had set the stage for us, and we must obey the cue. No ingenuity of Pilar's could hide us in the wings any longer, and we must play our parts as Destiny prompted.
Only one thing was clear. Carmona could have had no idea until now that the O'Donnels (with that young soldier so like the Forbidden Man) were travelling in the red car whence he had already plucked a suspected passenger. The coincidence would seem strange to him; and if he were sure enough of his ground to risk another error, he would probably denounce me to the police in the next big town. Disguising my outcast self as an officer in a Spanish regiment would not be a point in my favour; but—he could do nothing now. Monica was here, and the moment was mine.
There was a savage joy in the situation, born of exaltation, of the high altitude, and of uncertainty as to what might come next.
“Shall you keep out of the way?” asked Dick; for we were still screened from Carmona's sight by our own car, which Ropes had stopped with a grinding of the brake; and Pilar's face was veiled.
“Not I. I'm going to have some fun,” I answered. “It must come sooner or later, better sooner, or what's the good of playing Cristobal O'Donnel?”
With that, I appeared from behind the car, and the others were following, while Pilar leaned out in anxious expectancy.
[pg 106] “How do you do?” said I, in Andaluz as lazy as the other Cristóbal could have used. I took off my cap to the ladies, and so did Dick and the Cherub, exposing heated foreheads, damp from honest toil. “Sorry to find you in such a difficulty. But we'll soon get you out of that, won't we, Señor Waring? Here are three of us with stout shoulders and willing hearts.”
“Four, counting my chauffeur,” said Dick in English, playing up to my lead, since there was no stopping me now. “We're delighted to do anything we can.”
Carmona glared as an animal glares when it is at bay; only, an animal can attack his enemies, and he could not attack us; for he was not sure whether we were enemies or no, and whether he would not be making a fool of himself if he let us know what passed in his brain.
It was evident that he thought very hard for a moment, and was of two minds as to what he had better do. But suddenly the baited look vanished from his face, as a shadow is chased away by the sun, and I guessed that a course of action had occurred to him with which he was well satisfied. This seemed ominous for me, and I would have given something to read his thoughts.