“I will resist her,” said Isobel firmly.
Moreno smiled, and said good-bye. It was a little pathetic, he thought, the patient, loving woman ready to wait the man’s convenience. Ever the way with true love.
A brief drive to the Embassy in the Calle Fernando el Santo, a hastily pencilled note sent up to Rossett. Half an hour later, the two men were seated at a different rendezvous, for this time Moreno was not in his working-man’s dress. He had to be very cautious.
Moreno went to the point at once. “I have news that will startle you, Mr Rossett. Your fiancée Miss Clandon, is in Madrid at this moment.” He named the respectable but unfashionable quarter in which the girl had taken up her abode.
“What?” shouted Guy Rossett in his astonishment. It was just the same ejaculation he had used when he learned that Violet Hargrave was in Spain. The vocabulary of the average Englishman is very limited when he has to express sudden emotion. And Guy was quite the average type.
“Of course you are very surprised. Well, I am afraid it is all due to me. You remember some time ago I begged you to get out of this place. You refused. I took it on myself to write to your sister to use your father’s influence to get you recalled. That fell through too.”
“It was very kind of you to interfere in my private affairs, Mr Moreno,” observed Rossett stiffly.
“You are a bit of responsibility to me, Mr Rossett,” replied the journalist in his usual imperturbable fashion. “I will tell you frankly I should be very glad to see the back of you to-morrow, for your own sake—” He added in a lower voice, “Still more for the sake of the girl who loves you as much as you love her.”
“Forgive me,” cried Rossett hastily. “I quite appreciate that you mean very well to both of us.”
“Thank you,” said Moreno. “Well, to get on with my story. I have a very old chum, one Maurice Farquhar who happens to be a cousin of your fiancée. One night, in his chambers, I hinted that danger was threatening you here. It seems he told Miss Clandon. As I have stated, I wrote to your sister. The two women put their heads together. Miss Clandon’s father died. She had no longer any ties binding her to England. She was mad to come out here to be near you. As men of the world, we might say, the unreasoning caprice of a very loving woman.”