Of course he went to Bombardier Lane, where he was received by the old
people like a favourite son.
Mariquita, blushing and diffident, was scarcely able to realise that
her Stanislas was now at liberty to make love to her, openly and
without question.
The time, however, for their tender intercourse was all too short.
McKay expected hourly the steamer that was to take him eastward, and
his heart ached at the prospect of parting. As for Mariquita, she had
alternated between blithe joyousness and plaintive, despairing sorrow.
"I shall never see you again, Stanislas," she went on repeating, when
the last mood was on her.
"Nonsense! I have come out harmless so far; I shall do so to the end.
The Russians can't hurt me."
"But you have other enemies, dearest--pitiless, vindictive, and
implacable."
"Whom do you mean? Benito?"
"You know without my telling you. He has shown his enmity, then? How?
Oh, Stanislas! be on your guard against that black-hearted man."
Should he tell her of his suspicions that it was Benito who had
attacked him at Alicante? No; it would only aggravate her fears. But
he tried, nevertheless, to verify these suspicions without letting
Mariquita know the secret.
"Is Benito at Gibraltar?" he asked, quietly,
"We have not seen him for weeks.
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