“A pilot, Juan de Maestre, went on board the ships, collected the answers, made a report and took it up to the German headquarters here.  That Ramon Castillo found out,” said Fairbairn.  “Steps were taken with the crew.  The ships would be placed on the black list.  There would be no coal for them.  They must be laid up and the crews dismissed.  The crew of the Saragossa grasped the position, and the next time Juan de Maestre stepped on board he was invited to the forecastle, thumped, dropped overboard into the salubrious waters of the dock and left to swim ashore.  Juan de Maestre has had enough.  He won’t go near the Germans any more.  He is in a condition of extreme terror and neutrality.  Oh, he’s wonderfully neutral just now.”

“We might catch him perhaps on the rebound!” Hillyard suggested.

“Lopez thinks so,” said Fairbairn, with a nod towards Baeza.

“I can find him this evening,” Baeza remarked.

The three men conferred for a little while, and as a consequence of that conference Lopez Baeza walked through the narrow streets of the old town to a cafe near the railway station.  In a corner a small, wizened, square man was sitting over his beer, brooding unhappily.  Baeza took a seat by his side and talked with Juan de Maestre.  He went out after a few minutes and hired a motor-car from the stand in front of the station.  In the car he drove to the park and went once round it.  At a junction of two paths on the second round the car was stopped.  A short, small man stepped out from the shadow of a great tree and swiftly stepped in.

“Drive towards Tibidabo,” Baeza directed the driver, and inside the dark, closed car Baeza and Juan de Maestre debated, the one persuading, the other refusing.  It was long before any agreement was reached, but when Baeza, with the perspiration standing in beads upon his face, returned to his flat in the quiet, respectable street, he found Martin Hillyard and Fairbairn waiting for him anxiously.

“Hecho!” he cried.  “It is done!  Juan de Maestre will continue to go on board the ships and collect the information and write it out for the Germans.  But we shall receive an exact copy.”

“How?” asked Hillyard.

“Ramon will meet a messenger from Juan.  At eight in the morning of every second day Ramon is to be waiting at a spot which from time to time we will change.  The first place will be the cinema opposite to the old Bull Ring.”

“Good,” said Hillyard.  “In a fortnight I will return.”

He departed once more for Gibraltar, cruised up the coast, left his yacht once more in the harbour of Tarragona and travelled by motor-car into Barcelona.

Fairbairn and Lopez Baeza received him.  It was night, and hot with a staleness of the air which was stifling.  The windows all stood open in the quiet, dark street, but the blinds and curtains were closely drawn before the lamps were lit.