“But circumstances alter cases,” laughed the interpreter. “He may have supposed you had gone over to the enemy, and had come here to entrap him in some way.”
“It may be; but I hardly believe it,” mused Bark.
Jacob Lobo had no suspicion that he had been the cause of Raymond’s hurried departure; and he did not suggest the true solution of the problem. But the fugitive was gone; and all they had to do was to look him up. They were zealous in the mission with which they were charged, and lost not a moment in prosecuting the search. But they had almost gained the battle in obtaining a clew to the fugitive. Lobo declared that it would be easy enough to trace him out of the town, for he must have gone by the Neutral Ground, which is the strip of land separating the Rock from the mainland, or crossed to Algeciras in a boat. They were on their way to the landing-port, when the evening gun was fired.
“That’s as far as we can go to-night,” said Lobo, coming to a sudden halt.
“Why? what’s the matter now?” asked Bark.
“That’s the gun, and the gate will be closed in a few minutes,” replied Lobo. “They wouldn’t open it to oblige the King of Spain, if he happened along here about this time.”
It was no use to argue the matter in the face of fact; and they spent the rest of the day in making inquiries about the town. They went to the drivers of cabs, and to those who kept horses and mules to let. They questioned men and women located near the gate. No one had seen such a person as was described. They went to the King’s Arms for the night; and as soon as the gate was opened in the morning they hastened to the landing-port to make inquiries among the boatmen. They found one with whom they had spoken when they landed the day before. He wanted a job, as all of them do. He had seen a young man answering to the description given; and he had gone over to Algeciras in the very boat that brought them over. Would they like to go over to Algeciras? They would, immediately after breakfast; for they had left their bags, and had not paid their bill at the hotel.
The wind was light, and it took them two hours to cross the bay. With but little difficulty they found the stable at which the fugitive had obtained his mules, and learned that the name of the guide was José Barca. The keeper of the fonda volunteered the information that José was a brigand and a rascal; but the stable-keeper, who had furnished the guide, insisted that the landlord spoke ill of José because he had not obtained the job for his own man.
“About all these guides are ex-brigands and smugglers,” said Lobo.
“But the landlord of the fonda looks like a more honest man than the stable-keeper,” added Bark. “I think I should prefer to trust him.”