“You must not do that.”
“No. Not yet, at all events. Or the victory will be his—my enemy’s.”
He mused again. She, too, remained silent. At last he broke the spell.
“But I have already devised measures for his safety. Now I must go upstairs. They have heard nothing yet?”
“Not a word.”
“Then I must tell them of the mysterious shooting in the woods, and at the same time reassure Merle that her lover is in no real danger.”
“And Mrs. Darlington?” asked Tia Teresa. “How much is she to know?”
“Nothing! The vendetta is for us Spaniards. It is ours and ours alone. No one knows of my vow but you and I. Let it remain so. Adios, my dear friend.”
In the darkness he stooped and kissed her on both cheeks. For a moment she clung to him, but he gently liberated himself from her embrace. He moved toward the stairway, and Tia Teresa followed him cautiously up to the drawing room door, outside of which she remained. Knowing that she was there, he left the door ajar. The soft music was still playing, but suddenly ceased when Robles advanced into the apartment.
“My word, but this is an unexpected pleasure,” exclaimed Merle, as she came from the piano with outstretched hands.