"Yes," answered Sarrion. "Why do you ask?"
"I have heard that he is to receive a command in the army of the North."
Sarrion made a grimace, uncomplimentary to that very smart soldier General Pacheco, and at the foot of the stairs he stopped to speak to a friend. He spoke in French and named the man by his baptismal name; for this was a Frenchman, named Deulin, a person of mystery, supposed to be in the diplomatic service in some indefinite position. With him was an Englishman, who greeted Marcos as a friend.
"What do you make of all this?" asked Sarrion, addressing himself to the Englishman, who, however, rather cleverly passed the question on to the older man with a slow, British gesture.
"I make of it--that they only want a little money to make Don Carlos king," said Deulin.
"What is Evasio Mon doing in Madrid?" asked Sarrion.
"Raising the money, or spending it," replied the Frenchman, with a shrug of the shoulders, as if it were no business of his.
They passed up-stairs together, but had not gone far when Marcos said the Englishman's name without raising his voice.
"Cartoner."
He turned, and Marcos ran up three steps to meet him.