Chivey was not soft, but he was not competent to cope with such a keen spirit as this Spanish notary.

Senor Velasquez walked up to the hotel in which Herbert Murray was staying, and the first person he chanced to meet was Murray himself.

"I wish to have a word with you in private, Senor Murray," said the notary.

Murray looked anxiously around him, starting "like a guilty thing upon a fearful summons."

The bland smile of the Spanish notary rea.s.sured him, however.

"What can I do for Senor Velasquez?" he asked.

"I begged for a few words in private," answered Velasquez.

"Take a seat, Senor Velasquez," said Herbert Murray, "and now tell me how I can serve you," after entering his room.

The notary made himself comfortable in his chair.

"I can speak in safety now?" he said.

"Of course."

"No fear of interruption here?"

The notary looked Murray steadily in the eyes as he said--

"I was thinking of your officious servant."

Herbert Murray changed colour as he faltered--

"Of whom?"

"Chivey, I think you call him--your groom, I mean."

"There is no fear from him now," said Murray, with averted eyes; "not the least in the world."

Senor Velasquez smiled significantly.

"Your man Chivey," resumed the Spanish notary, "has confided to me a secret."

"Concerning me?"

"Yes."

"The villain!"

"Now listen to me, Senor Murray. You have behaved very imprudently indeed. Your whole secret is with me."

Herbert started.

"With you?"

"Yes."

Herbert Murray glanced anxiously at the door.

The notary followed his eyes with some inward anxiety, yet he did not betray his uneasiness at all.

"He was speaking the truth for once, then," said Murray. "He had confided his secrets to someone else."

"Yes."

Herbert Murray walked round the room, and took up his position with his back to the door.

"Senor Velasquez," he said, in a low but determined voice, "you have made an unfortunate admission. If there is a witness, it is only one; you are that witness, and your life is in danger."

The notary certainly felt uncomfortable, but he was too old a stager to display it.

Herbert Murray produced a pistol, which he proceeded to examine and to c.o.c.k deliberately.

"That would not advance your purpose much, Senor Murray," he said, coolly; "the noise would bring all the house trooping into the room."

Murray was quite calm and collected now, and therefore he was open to reason.

"There is something in that," he said, "so I have a quieter helpmate here."

He unc.o.c.ked the pistol and put it in his breast pocket.

Then he whipped out a long Spanish stiletto.

"There are other reasons against using that."

"And they are?"

"Here is one," returned the notary, drawing a long, slender blade from his sleeve.

Murray was palpably disconcerted at this.

The Spanish notary and the young Englishman stood facing each other in silence for a considerable time.

The former was the first to break the silence.

"Now, look you here, Senor Murray," said he, "I am not a child, nor did I, knowing all I know, come here unprepared for every emergency--aye, even for violence."

"Go on," said Murray, between his set teeth.

"You have imprudently placed yourself in the hands of an unscrupulous young man."

"I have."