“Why did you come?” The Spaniard paused to roll a cigarette before he answered: 

“I come from the Duke, of course.  Why else should I climb this accursed ladder of hills?”

“What Duke?” The interrogation tumbled too eagerly from the soldier’s lips to be consonant with his wary assumption of innocence.  “There are so many Dukes.  Myself, I serve only the King.”

The Spaniard’s teeth gleamed, and there was a strangely disarming quality in the smile that broke in sudden illumination over his dark face.

“I have been here only a few days,” explained Blanco.  Then, lying with apt fluency, he continued:  “I have arrived from Cadiz in the service of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado, who will soon be His Majesty, Louis of Galavia, and I am sent to you as the bearer of his message.”  He ignored the other’s protestations of loyalty to the throne as completely as he ignored the frightened face of the man who made them.

Lapas had whitened to the lips and now stood hesitant.  “I don’t understand,” he stammered.

The Spaniard’s expression changed swiftly from good humor to the sternness of a taskmaster.

“The Duke is impatient,” he asserted, “of delays and misunderstandings on the part of his servants.  His Grace believed that your memory had been well schooled.  Louis, the King, may prove forgetful of those who are forgetful of Louis, the Duke.”

Lapas still stood silent, pitiably unnerved.  If the man was Karyl’s spy an incautious reply might cost him his life.  If he was genuinely a messenger from the Pretender any hesitation might prove equally fatal.

Time was important.  Blanco drew from his pocket a gold seal ring which until last night had adorned the finger of the Countess Astaride.  Upon its shield was the crest of the House of Delgado.  At the sight of the familiar quarterings, the officer’s face became contrite, apologetic, but above all immeasurably relieved.

“Caution is so necessary,” he explained.  “One cannot be too careful.  It is not for myself alone, but for the Duke also that I must have a care.”

Blanco accepted the explanation with a bow, then he spoke energetically and rapidly, pressing his advantage before the other’s weakness should lead him into fresh vacillation.

“The Duke feared that there might be some misunderstanding as to the signal and the programme.  He wished me to make it clear to you.”

Lapas nodded and, turning, led the way through the pine trees to a small kiosk that was something between a sentinel box and a signal station built against the walls of the old observatory.

“I think I understand,” said Lapas, “but I shall be glad to have you repeat the Duke’s commands and inform me if any changes have been made.”

“No, the arrangements stand unaltered,” replied the Spaniard.  “My directions were that you should repeat to me the order of your instructions and that I should judge for His Grace whether or not your memory is retentive.  There must be no hitch.”