"This. The lodge of the Duke as seen by the telescope sleeps shuttered—an expanse of blank walls. Yet the Duke is there!"
"Louis—in Galavia?"
"Wait." Blanco laid his hand on the other's arm and smiled.
"My friend is superstitious—and ignorant. He tells how the Duke has a ship's mast with wires on a tower fronting the far side. He says Louis talks with the open sea."
"A Marconi mast?"
Manuel nodded.
Benton's eyes narrowed under drawn brows. When he spoke his voice was tense.
"In God's name, Manuel," he whispered, "what is the answer?"
The Spaniard met the gaze gravely. "I fancy, Señor," he said slowly, "the matches will burn."
"When? Where?"