"Why," returned Marchmont, "you're partially to blame for it, you know. I'm after those Spanish conspirators. Of course you've heard the story?"
"No," said Banborough. "I haven't been in town for a fortnight. What is it?"
"Well, we arrested a lovely señorita on Fourteenth Street who was using the title of your novel as a password. I can tell you confidentially that there's no doubt that she's one of the cleverest and most unscrupulous female spies in the Spanish secret service; and while they were deciding where to take her, a stranger, who we're certain was one of the Secretaries of their Legation, eloped with her, Black Maria and all, with the recklessness of a true hidalgo. They were joined by a band outside the city, where they overcame a Justice of the Peace who arrested them, after a desperate resistance on his part. The story of this unequal battle was one of the finest bits of bravery we've had for years.
"After dining at a hotel at Yonkers they held up the waiter with revolvers and escaped. Similar audacities were perpetrated at the boundary-line between the United States and Canada, and in spite of the most intelligent and valiant efforts on the part of the police, aided by our own special corps of detectives, they've so far eluded us. Their leader's said to be a perfect devil, who, as I tell you, is certainly a Secretary of the Spanish Legation."
"How do you know that?" asked Banborough.
"Ah," said Marchmont, looking wise and shaking his head, "the Daily Leader has private sources of information. I wonder you've not heard anything of this."
"Yes," acquiesced the Englishman, "it is curious, isn't it?"
"But," continued his friend, "you haven't told me yet why you came to Montreal."
"Well," said Cecil, laughing, "I can at least assure you that my trip here has been much less eventful than the one you described."
"By the way," said the journalist, "have you seen the last editorial about your book in the Daily Leader?"