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She pulled her long blue cloak round her and went on without answering or turning her head. It could only be the Manager coming to upbraid her. An arm was flung round her protectingly and she turned with the face of a hunted animal, and looked up into the wild dark eyes of Vardri. "What has happened? You're ill! It's no wonder. Mon Dieu, those brutes last night . . ."
You undertook to obey orders, I believe. You may contradict me if I am incorrect." He leant forward with the glittering eyes of the fanatic. "You talk of murder and forget that to us human life is nothing. Do you think you will save Vardri by refusing? Am I to suppose that he has infected you also with the taint of disloyalty? It is your business to loathe a traitor as we do.
Two streets away, and in a room more squalid than her own, Vardri was also enduring his own private Purgatory. Hers was physical, his mental. That was all the difference.
Since the night she had sat with Vardri in his room, he had scarcely spoken to her except for a few moments on business matters. She thought he looked haggard and worried, and there was a change that she could not define in his manner towards her. She wondered if he knew about Vardri, if he thought she was deceiving him.
The manta in which she was wrapped stifled her, and the weight of her own hair under the wig and sombrero made her head ache and throb violently. As they rode she rehearsed her plans in her own mind, telling herself over and over again the things that she must say and do when she was alone with Vardri.
To-morrow you will ride again, and there will be the applause." Even as he spoke he knew his words were foolishness. The feverish skin, dry lips and eyes that were like burning holes in the thin oval face were signs and tokens enough for the most unseeing of men. And Vardri had suffered sufficiently himself to be able to recognise genuine illness. She slipped from his arms.
"You do not appear to have the least idea of the identity of the man to whom I am referring," he continued. "Your friend Vardri is not a very careful person. He is young, and shall we say, a little foolish. It is always risky to say or write anything against the Cause one is supposed to be serving." "To say or write." It dawned upon her all at once.
Meanwhile Vardri was riding leisurely up the slope, reining back his horse, and stopping at intervals to put a fair distance between himself and the others. He intended to make a chance of seeing Arithelli alone again, so he meant to wait till the whole crew, and especially Sobrenski, were safely embarked on their eternal discussions.
Either she had more courage or else she was more foolish even than he could have believed it possible for a female creature to be. Women took good care of their own skins in general! If Vardri meant to try and escape, surely they would have gone together.
"I accept with pleasure," Vardri said, "but on one condition that it means my remaining in Barcelona." Vladimir hesitated. "Well, I had not contemplated that. Naturally one requires one's secretary to be " "I understand, Monsieur. I hope you will not consider me ungrateful, but there is a reason." "It's a woman?" Vardri bowed gravely. "Exactly, Monsieur. It's a woman."
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