The American turned and put out his hand, grasping that of the toreador.  His grip said what his lips left unworded.

“Dios mio!” exclaimed Blanco with a black scowl.  “We saved the King, but we bought his life and his throne too high!  He cost too dear!”

“Blanco,” Benton spoke with difficulty, “I have brought you with me and you have asked no questions.  The story is not mine to tell.”

The Andalusian raised a hand in protestation.

“It is not necessary that you tell me anything, Senor.  I have seen enough.  And I know the King was not worth the price.”

Benton shook his head.  “Are you going on with me, now that you know what you know?”

“Senor, it grieves me that you should ask.  I told you I was at your disposition.”  The Spaniard went on talking rapidly, talking with lips and eyes and gesture.  “When you came to Cadiz and took me with you on the small steamer, I did not ask why.  I thought it was as Americans are interested in all things—­or perhaps because the many million pesetas of the Senor’s fortune might be affected by changing the map of Europe.  No matter.  You were interested.  It was enough.”

He swept both hands apart.

“But had I known then what to-day has taught me, I should have held my tongue that evening when the Pretender plotted in the cafe.”

“To-morrow,” said Benton slowly, “there will be festivity.  I can’t be here then.  I must leave to-night—­but you, amigo mio, you must stay and watch.  If Lapas is taken prisoner and silenced there will be no one in Puntal who will suspect you.  No one knew me and if I leave at once, the Countess will hardly learn who was the mysterious man to whom she gave a ring.”

“But, Senor,”—­Blanco was dubious—­“would it not be better that I should be with you?”

“You can serve me better by remaining here.  I would rather have you near Her.”

The man from Cadiz nodded and crossed himself.

“I am pledged, Senor,” he asserted.

“Then,” continued the American, “for a time we must separate.  The Isis will sail to-night.”

The men walked together to the terminal station of the small ratchet railway.  When they parted the Spaniard and the yachtsman had arranged a telegraph code which might be used by the small but complete wireless equipment of the Isis.  An hour later the launch from the yacht took him aboard at the ancient stone jetty, where the fruit-venders and wine-sellers shouted their jargon, and the seaweed clung to the landing stage.

* * * * *

When Karyl had returned to the Palace after the inspection of the Fortress do Freres, he had sent word at once to that part of the Palace where Cara had her suite.  She was accompanied by her aunt, the Duchess of Apsberg, and her English cousin, Lilian Carrowes, who also knew something of the life in America with the Bristows.