"No, I'm afraid not—it was rather a disappointing morning."
"It was to me," he said; "but we are friends, I hope, Miss Baxendale, eh? Our appointment for to-morrow holds good, I hope?" And Galva had looked serious for a moment, then smiled sunnily in answer.
Once clear of Venta Villa, the lieutenant turned, and the arc lamps showed the cunning ferocity of his sallow face as he shook his fist at the house he had just left.
"Friends!" he hissed. "Yes, my work will be easier if we are friends."
Then he hurried on to keep his appointment with Dasso.
*****
After Galva and Anna had retired, Edward sat smoking with his guest in the little library of the villa. He thought it a good opportunity to talk over the state of affairs, and he opened by remarking on the rumours of the king's health that had been rife in Corbo the last few days.
The old gentleman stroked his long white beard meditatively for a moment.
"It cannot be long now," he said at last; "the good God ease his passing. The princess must hold herself in readiness, for at the moment the breath leaves the body of Enrico, Dasso, who has many friends in the army, will hasten to the Palace, and will cause himself to be proclaimed king. I know that, in this, he has a secret understanding with Spain herself. Miranda—I mean Galva—must be there also, Mr. Sydney; the people must choose."
"And what will Spain say to that?"