ring, and did not stay until
he was within easy talking distance of the two men. Then it was that
he threw up his head, with a fine gesture of race, and acknowledged the
saluting pair. Tormillo, at this point, turned aside and stood
miserably under a tree, wringing his hands.

"Good evening to you, friends. I am Don Luis Ramonez, at your service."

The pair looked at each other: presently one of them spoke.

"At the feet of Senor Don Luis."

"Your business is pressing, and secret?"

"Si, Senor Don Luis, pressing, and secret, and serious. We have to ask
your grace to be prepared."

"I thank you. My preparations are made already. Present your report."

He took a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it with a steady hand.
The flame of the match showed his brows and deep-set eyes. If ever a
man had acquaintance with grief printed upon him, it was he. But
throughout the interview the glowing weed could be seen, a waxing and
waning rim of fire, lighting up his grey moustache and then hovering in
mid-air, motionless.

The officer appointed to speak presented his report in these terms.

"We were upon our round about the wood of La Huerca six days ago, and
had occasion to visit the Convent of La Pena. Upon information
received from the Prior we questioned a certain religious, who admitted
that he had recently buried a man in the wood. After some hesitation,
which we had the means of overcoming, he conducted us to the grave. We
disinterred the deceased, who had been murdered. Senor Don Luis----"

"Proceed," said Don Luis coldly. "I am listening."

"Sir," said the officer. "It was the body of a young man who had come
from Pobledo. He called himself Esteban Vincaz." Tormillo, under his
tree across the avenue, howled and rent himself. Don Luis heard him.

"Precisely," he said to the officer. "Have the goodness to wait while
I silence that dog over there." He went rapidly over the roadway to
Tormillo, grasped him by the shoulder and spoke to him in a vehement
whisper. That was the single action by which he betrayed himself. He
returned to his interview.

"I am now at leisure again. Let us resume our conversation. You
questioned the religious, you say? When did the assassination take
place?"

"Don Luis, it was upon the twelfth of May."

"Ah," said Don Luis, "the twelfth of May? And did he know who
committed it?"

"Senor Don Luis, it was a woman."

The wasted eyes were upon the speaker, and m