“What do you think it means?” asked Dick, when the chauffeur had gone.
“It’s just struck me, it may mean that Carmona intends to slip away with his guests in his new automobile, and that he wanted to find out something about my car, what it was like, and so on, in case I got wind of the idea, and followed.”
“The identical thing struck me. He wouldn’t go spying himself, but sent his chauffeur, a new importation, probably, to have a look at the Gloria and describe it. I wonder how he heard you had one.”
“Easy enough to do that. Of course he’s found out somehow, perhaps through employing a detective, that Chris Trevenna and Casa Triana are one man. He can’t make much use of the knowledge to bother me on this side the frontier, but—”
“Yes; a big but.”
“It seems pretty certain that his own car must have come, or be coming here, and that he means to use it going into Spain, or he wouldn’t have developed this sudden interest in mine.”
“It looks like it. Now he knows, if a dark blue Gloria crosses his path, it’s the car of the pursuing lover, and—”
“I was just thinking that a dark blue Gloria will not cross his path.”
“You don’t mean—”
“I mean that it won’t be prudent for either Casa Triana’s or Chris Trevenna’s car to follow his, wherever he means to go.”
“What, you’ll give up—”
“Is it likely?”
“You’re getting beyond me.”
“What I want is to stay with you, in your car.”
“Wish I had one!” said Dick.
“You’re going to have the loan of one. Would a grey or a red car suit you best?”
“I see. Red, please. They say red paint dries quickest.”
We both laughed.
“Your red car must have new lamps,” I went on, “and a new number, and any other little things that can be put on in a hurry. And you’d better get a passport if you haven’t one. Gentlemen touring in foreign lands are sometimes subjected to cross-questionings which might be inconvenient unless they’ve plenty of red tape up their sleeves.”
“I’ll lay in a stock. How would you like me to be the accredited correspondent, for the Spanish wedding festivities, of a newspaper or two?”
“Rattling good idea. Could you work it?”
“Easy as falling off a log, or puncturing a tyre. I’ll arrange by telegraph, London and New York.”
“Grand old chap.”
“Thanks. Better wait till I’ve done something. What about your part in the show?”
“A humble friend, accompanying the important newspaper correspondent in his travels.”
“That’s all right. But the Trevenna business is played out.”
“A new travelling name’s as easy to fit as a travelling-coat.”
“Not quite, unless you can match it with a new travelling face.”
“Luckily Carmona knows Romeo’s face better than mine. And, anyhow, a motoring get-up can be next door to a disguise.”
“That’s true. Behind goggles Apollo hasn’t much advantage over Apollyon, and you can develop a moustache. Yes. I think we can work it as far as that goes. But one’s always heard that Spanish roads are impossible.”
“They’ll be no worse for us than for Carmona,” I argued. “Besides, most of the best known books about Spain are out of date. The King has made motoring fashionable lately, and there must have been some attempts to get the roads into passable condition.”
“I happened to hear an American who’s here with a sixty horse-power Panhard, wanting to go to Seville, say to another fellow that he’d been warned he couldn’t get beyond Madrid.”
“I’ve never bothered much about warnings in my life. I’ve generally gone ahead, and found out things for myself.”
“We’ll continue on the same lines. And, anyhow, wherever we go, we’re sure of a leader; our friend the enemy.”
It was next in order to find out whether the Duke really had brought an automobile to Biarritz; but try as we might, we could learn nothing. Inquiries were made at the railway stations, both at Bayonne and Biarritz, as to whether an automobile had lately been shipped through; but as it happened, no car of any description had arrived by rail in either direction during the last fortnight.
All the principal garages of Bayonne and Biarritz were visited also, in the hope of finding a mysterious car which might be the Duke of Carmona’s; but there was not one of which we could not trace the ownership. We then sent to Bordeaux, and even to St. Jean de Luz; but in both cases our errand was vain. If Carmona had an automobile in the South of France, it was well hidden.
As for the chauffeur who had inspected my car, and afterwards met Carmona at another garage, he had disappeared, apparently, into thin air.
Nevertheless, Dick and I formed a theory that the new automobile, of which we had heard so many rumours, was actually in Biarritz; that it had been driven into the town after dark, and was now being kept by some friend of Carmona’s in a private garage. And if we were right in our conjectures, we felt we might take it as a sure sign that the Duke was not only planning an important tour, but was not forgetting a detail of precaution which could prevent my learning his intentions.
As we could not set a watch upon the chauffeur, we set a watch upon the Duke; and it was Ropes who, with considerable relish, undertook the task. I did not wish to bring a stranger into the affair; and Ropes I could trust as I trusted myself. Therefore Ropes it was who unobtrusively dogged Carmona’s footsteps from the time the Duke went out in the morning, up to the time he went in again at night.
Meanwhile, Dick took steps to become correspondent for The Daily Despatch of London, and The New York Recorder, the editors of which papers he knew personally. He spent a great deal of money in wiring long messages, but his reward was success, and, as he said, he was “proud of his job,” which he intended to carry out as faithfully as if writing impressions for newspapers were the business of his life.
Also, we got the car repainted; bought lamps of a different sort; ordered side baskets to be attached, of a red to match the new colour; had Dick Waring’s monogram, in execrable taste, put on the doors; while last and most important change of all, from being number A12,901, the automobile became, illegally but convincingly, M14,317. Cunningest device of all, Ropes changed the wheel-caps of my Gloria for those of a Frenzel, as like a Gloria as a Fiat is like a Mercédès; so that only an expert of much experience would know that the car was not a Frenzel.
A quick dryer was used, and in two days we were ready for anything. I still hoped for a letter from Monica, with some hints as to her mother’s plans, but nothing came; and when we had had a blank day, with no news of activity in the enemy’s camp, it was a relief to have Ropes arrive at the hotel in the morning just as I was dressed.
I knew the moment I saw his face that something exciting had happened.
“The Duke’s gone, my lord,” he reported; “gone in a dark grey, covered car; I couldn’t get near enough to make sure what it was, but it looks like a Lecomte. He’s this moment got off.”
“Not alone?”
“No, my lord. I’ll tell you exactly what took place. I was at the window in the little room I hired over a shop three days ago, in sight of the entrance gates of the Villa Isabella. It was just seven o’clock this morning when a smart, big grey car drove in, might be a forty horse, and of the Lecomte type. The chauffeur wore goggles, but his figure was like the fellow’s who came the other day to our garage. About half an hour later, out slipped the car again, the Duke driving, a lady sitting beside him, two other ladies in the tonneau, the chauffeur at the Duke’s feet, and a good deal of luggage on the roof. At the gate they turned as if to go to San Sebastian; and I came to let you know.”
“That’s right. Get ready at once for a start, and have the car here as soon as you can.”
“Car’s ready now, my lord, and so am I.”
“Good. But don’t ‘my lord’ me. Now that I’m Mr. George Smith that’s even more important to remember than in Trevenna days. And don’t forget that the car’s Mr. Waring’s car.”
“I won’t forget, sir.”
He was off to the garage, and I was knocking at Dick’s door.
Dick was tying his necktie. “Ready to start in five minutes,” said he.
“How did you guess what was up?”
“Your face, d’Artagnan.”
“Why d’Artagnan? Haven’t I a large enough variety of names already?”
“I’ve selected one suitable for the situation. D’Artagnan took upon himself a mission. So have you; and you’ll have as many difficulties to overcome before you fulfil it, if you do, as he had.”
“Nonsense. We’re starting out to keep in touch with another party of motorists.”
“In a country forbidden to one of us.”
“That one can look out for himself. If a lady in another motor should need someone to stand by her, we’re to be on the spot to stand by, that’s all.”
“Yes; that’s all,” said Dick, laughing. “And all that d’Artagnan had to do was to get hold of a few diamond studs which a lady wanted to wear at a ball. Sounds simple, eh? But d’Artagnan had some fun on the way, and I’d bet the last dollar in my pile we will. Hang this necktie! There; I’m ready. Have we time for coffee and a crust?”
