It was on learning this that de Quesnoy burst out:
'What infamy! The imagination reels at the thought of such a massacre. It seems incredible that any human being, let alone an educated man like this Morral, could become so obsessed with vindictiveness against the ruling caste as to plan the murder of men, women and even innocent children indiscriminately. Yet one cannot doubt that he would have turned the church into a shambles had he had the chance. Hell is too good for such Devil's spawn.'
The disease from which he was suffering had probably affected his brain,' suggested the Conde.
'Perhaps; but what of the others who aided and abetted him - the editor who got him out of Madrid, and the man who hid him in the country? Besides, these anarchists are becoming an ever-increasing menace to established order. In Russia during the past twenty years nihilists have murdered scores of Provincial Governors and other high officials. In France, Italy or Belgium every few months they commit some appalling outrage. Look, too, at the toll they are taking of Europe's rulers. In '94 one of them assassinated President Carnot in Lyons, in '98 another stabbed to death the Empress
Elizabeth of Austria, and in 1900 yet another killed King Humbert of Italy. A dozen other rulers have been wounded or had narrow escapes. Not one of them today can wake up in the morning without the thought that he may be murdered before evening.'
The Conde nodded. 'It is not the first attempt on Don Alfonso, either. Just a year ago a bomb was thrown during his State visit to Paris, while he was driving through the streets with President Loubet. He gave fine proof of his courage on that occasion by leaning out of the carriage window and crying, " Vive la France/" Then he turned with a smile to the President and asked, "Was that intended for you or for me?" The President rose to the occasion and replied, "This is the land of equality, Sir." But you are right. These anarchists are a hideous menace. Among their victims that you omitted to name was President McKinley of the United States. His assassination a few years ago shows that their organization must be world-wide.'
'Exactly; and they cannot all be mad, at least not in the accepted sense which would make them medically certifiable.'
'No, they are fanatics; mostly, I think, embittered men who have brooded upon imagined wrongs so long that they have lost all moral sense and are prepared to go to any lengths to avenge themselves upon society.'
'They are responsible for their actions!' de Quesnoy exclaimed harshly. 'And nothing - nothing - can excuse this deliberate treacherous warfare they are waging on unsuspecting people. They should be stamped out like poisonous reptiles. I only wish to God that I knew a way to set about it.'
T understand how you must feel, and you are right,' the Conde agreed. 'But you may be sure that the police are doing everything possible to that end. Regarding yourself, though, Count; permit me to remark that now eight days have elapsed since your personal tragedy I do feel that you should make an effort to cease brooding upon it. Will you not try to put these villainous anarchists out of your mind and engage it with new interests?'
De Quesnoy sighed. 'I suppose that I ought to, and since you wish it I will make the endeavour; but I fear it will prove a hard task. You see at the moment there is nothing in which I feel I could interest myself.'
'You are interested in art and history.'
*I am, but I have visited the Prado many times and have already seen most of the sights of Madrid.'
'Of course; but I gather you have never been in Southern Spain. Andalusia is the loveliest part of my country and in its cities are some of the most beautiful buildings in the world. The Moors left us finer examples of their great civilization than any that are to be found in North Africa.'
'Were I in a normal state I am sure I should find them fascinating, but at the moment I really could not face a sightseeing tour on my own.'
The Conde smiled. 'My dear friend, we should not dream of allowing you to do so. I have already discussed this proposal with Francois and he was delighted at the idea of acting as your companion and guide.'
'How good of you both;' de Quesnoy raised a faint smile in reply. 'In that case it would be churlish of me to refuse.'
That evening de Vendome came up to discuss the trip with him and the places he proposed they should visit. His plan was to go south to Cordoba, across to Seville, then through Jerez de la Fron-tera to Cadiz; from there down to Algeciras, inland to Ronda, across to the Mediterranean coast at Malaga, inland again to Granada, return to the sea at Alicante, up the coast to Valencia, and so back to Madrid, stopping a few nights or longer, if they felt so inclined, in each of these places.
'But such a tour could take up to two months,' de Quesnoy protested.
'What matter,' the young Prince shrugged. 'Neither of us has any duties to claim him; and among these places there are several that I have never been to myself. Like you, after becoming an exile from France I decided to change my nationality, and I am now a Spaniard. So the more I can see of what is now always to be my country, the better.'
De Quesnoy shook his head. 'That is a plausible excuse, dear boy, and it is charming of you to make it; but you will have many opportunities to visit these places in more cheerful company than mine. I really cannot allow you to saddle yourself with me for more than a couple of weeks. However hard I try not to show my grief it is certain that I shall be moody and preoccupied for a good part of the time.'
'I don't mean to give you the chance to be. We are going by road in my new automobile and whenever you show signs of depression I intend to make you drive it.'
'What!' exclaimed the Count, sitting up with a jerk. 'But I've never driven an automobile in my life. I hate the damn' smelly unreliable things.'
The Prince laughed. 'Being, like yourself, a lover of horses, until quite recently I shared your prejudice. But soon everyone will be driving one; so you'll have to learn sooner or later, and this is an excellent opportunity. The new models don't break down like the early types, either; at least not every few miles, and having to keep your mind on the machine will keep it off everything else.'
Next day, the 9th of June, they set out. De Vendome's car was a six-cylinder Hispano Suiza and capable of doing sixty miles an hour on the flat; but horses were still apt to shy at cars, so their progress was slow through the city and suburbs of Madrid, and it was not until tea-time that they reached the little town of Aranjuez, which is in miniature to Ma'drid what Versailles is to Paris. The Prince's mother had a villa there so it was one of his homes, in which he had his own suite. They garaged the car there and he ordered beds to be made up, but only caretaker servants were in residence so they dined at a restaurant on the south bank of the Tagus. The river there ran through woods that formed a charming setting, and for dessert they had a great bowl of freshly-picked strawberries.
On the 10th the road, curving south-eastward across the plain of New Castile, proved a dreary stretch and was almost deserted, but it could hardly have been bettered as a place for the Prince to give de Quesnoy his first lessons in driving. By nightfall they reached Manzanares, and on the 11th covered another long, flat stretch until late afternoon when they entered more picturesque hilly country. So far the surface of the roads had been far from good, but now to the ruts and potholes were added sudden twists and unexpected gullies that could be negotiated well enough by muleteers and ox carts, but presented most unpleasant traps for motorists. The high-sprung chassis with its narrow tyres bucked alarmingly from side to side and it took all de Vendomes's newly acquired skill to get them that night to Linares. Their last lap to Cordoba ran through the Sierra Morena and for most of the way followed the course of the Guadalquivir. The mountain scenery was magnificent, but it proved a gruelling drive and they were both heartily glad to reach the white city from which at one time a Caliph had ruled all Spain.