‘I traced my man to Gibraltar, and thence he appears to have come north,’ continued Sir John Pleydell. ‘He has probably taken service under Espartero—many of our English outlaws wear the Spanish Queen’s uniform. He is, of course, bearing an assumed name; but surely it would be possible to trace him?’
‘Oh, yes,’ answered Conyngham, ‘I think you will be able to find him.’
Sir John’s eyes had for a moment a gleam of life in them.
‘Ah!’ he said, ‘I am glad to hear you say that. For that is my object in coming to this country; and although I have during the course of my life had many objects of ambition or desire, none of them has so entirely absorbed my attention as this one. Half a dozen men have gone to penal servitude in order that I might succeed in my purpose.’
There was a cold deliberation in this statement which was more cruel than cynicism, for it was sincere. Conyngham looked at Estella. Her face had lost all colour, her eyes were burning—not with the dull light of fear, for the blood that ran in her veins had no taint of that in it—but with anger. She knew who it was that Sir John Pleydell sought. She looked at Conyngham, and his smile of cool intrepidity made her heart leap within her breast. This lover of hers was at all events a brave man—and that which through all the ages reaches the human heart most surely is courage. The coward has no friends.
Sir John Pleydell had paused, and was seeking something in his pocket. General Vincente preserved his attitude of slightly bored attention.
‘I have here,’ went on the baronet, ‘a list of the English officers serving in the army of General Espartero at the time of my quitting England. Perhaps you will, at your leisure, be kind enough to cast your eye over it, and make a note of such men as are personally unknown to you, and may therefore be bearing assumed names.’
Conyngham took the paper, and, holding it in his hand, spoke without moving from the mantelpiece against which he leant.
‘You have not yet made quite clear your object in coming to Spain,’ he said. ‘There exists between Spain and England no extradition treaty; and even if such were to come in force I believe that persons guilty of political offences would be exempt from its action. You propose to arraign this man for high treason—a political offence according to the law of many countries.’
‘You speak like a lawyer,’ said Sir John, with a laugh.