The Car of Destiny Part 20

We dined in great spirits that evening, in the big scarlet and gold restaurant; and in rich, red Marques de Riscal d.i.c.k drank confusion to the Duque de Carmona. The Cherub had told us where Carmona's flat was situated, saying that his car would perhaps be kept under the same roof with his carriage and the state coach.

The company was interesting to watch. Leoncavallo had as a guest the famous ex-bull-fighter Mazzantini; a Russian prince entertained several beauties of the Opera; and there were two or three politicians greatly in the public eye. We were hungry; the dinner was good; there was much to talk over; and all seemed to be going well.

But about half-past ten, when Pilar had gone, and the Cherub was having a "yarn" and a cigar in the sitting-room of our suite; Ropes appeared, looking serious.

"Something bad has happened, sir; and I blame myself," said he.

"Something wrong with the car," I asked quickly.

"Something _out_ of the car, sir," he amended. "The main shaft of the change-speed gear."

"Impossible!" said I. "A car can't go along dropping her gearing, as a woman drops her purse!"

"No, sir. But she can, so to speak, have her pocket picked. After all that's come and gone, I ought to have kept my eyes open."

"Out with it, my good chap," said I; "don't try to break it to us."

"It's the car that's broken into, sir. I found the garage all right, left her safe and sound, came back here, but after dinner thought I'd go round again to tinker a bit at the car in case of an early start to-morrow. When I got to the place there were three new fellows on duty, and they seemed astonished when they saw I intended to work on the Gloria. The chauffeur who looked after that car had been in, they said; and you can believe, sir, I p.r.i.c.ked up my ears. He'd been working like a demon, said they, opening the gear-box and dismounting the main shaft. Then he went off with it over his shoulder, after telling the foreman his master wouldn't believe the pinions were so worn there ought to be a new set, and he was going to show it to him. They were surprised, I can tell you, sir, when I said we'd been robbed, and that the thief wasn't your chauffeur. But just then one of the old lot came in, and bore witness that I was the right man. It did seem like a bad dream, but a peep at the gear-box showed me it was real enough. I was a fool not to give somebody warning, or pay a man to stay by the car."

"I can't see that you had reason to be suspicious," said I, "although it's a rascally outrage, and makes me feel murderous. Did they describe the supposed chauffeur?"

"They did sir; and I expected to recognize the description. But I didn't; they're too smart for that."

"You think we know him?"

"Sure of it, sir. Nothing easier than a bit of disguise."

"It might be a common motor-car thief, who wanted a main shaft for a Gloria car."

"And then again, sir, it mightn't."

"Anyhow," said I, "the thing to do would be to apply to the police, have the ruffian run to earth and arrested, no matter what his position. The worst of it is, though, I'm not anxious to have the eye of the Spanish police turned upon me, and there are those who count on that fact."

"Wouldn't I like to smash their heads for this! Wouldn't I like to smash their car!" growled d.i.c.k.

"No. That would be playing it too low down," said I.

Ropes coloured under his sunburnt skin, and began to search for non-existent dust on the leather cap in his hand.

"You're right, sir, no doubt," he said, in a meek voice.

I was half sorry that he, or anyone, should agree with me. It seemed somehow as if my chauffeur were taking this monstrous thing too coolly.

"Well, the fact remains that we're done," I said, with suppressed fury.

"If the Duke of Carmona has had a hand in this act, it's a sign that he means to get off while we're held up waiting for a new shaft and pinions to arrive-probably all the way from Paris. He can go to-morrow-"

"Beg pardon, sir; he can't, not in his own car," said Ropes. "If _we_ can't leave, no more can't he."

"Why, what have you done?" I tried to speak sternly.

"Oh, next to nothing, sir. A bit of a touch on his magneto ignition, and a tickling of his coil, just enough to keep him in hospital till he's doctored up."

Rope's expression was so childlike that d.i.c.k and I burst out laughing.

"You demon!" I said. "How did you get at the car?"

"Much the same as they did at ours, though I don't pretend to be as clever as some. I said to myself, as this car of the Duke's is new, and he doesn't drive it himself, chances are he's never had a motor before, and wouldn't have a garage in Madrid, though he does live here part of the year and must have fine stables. I inquired what was the best garage besides ours, and strolled round, thinking the chauffeur would have gone straight to the Duke with his news. I found the place, and all the chaps were standing outside open doors, watching a couple of dogs having a fight. I walked in, without a word to anyone, though I'd have said I came from the Duke if I'd had to. There was the car; and before one of those blessed dogs had chewed the other's nose off, I'd polished up my little job. Then I came to you, feeling a bit better than a few minutes before."

"You ought to be crushed with remorse," said I; but I'm afraid I grinned; and d.i.c.k remarked that if he were King of England he'd give Ropes a knighthood.

"Heaven knows what the next move will be," I commented, when the avenger had gone, not too stricken in spirit. "It begins to look as though the enemy would stick at little, and we can't go on giving t.i.t for tat."

"He won't take open action against you for the present," said the Cherub, "as he isn't sure you aren't Cristobal O'Donnel; and you're warned if he tries to strike in the dark. He's probably found out through the Ministry of War that Cristobal's on leave, so to rid himself of your company he's resorted to the only means which occurred to him."

"I have to thank you that he had no surer means," I said.

"It's the fashion in Spain, if a friend wants a thing, to tell him it is his," replied Colonel O'Donnel. "You wanted me for a father, Pilar for a sister. I said, 'We are yours.' There's not much to be thankful for. I would do ten times more for your father's son; and my confessor's a sympathetic man. Besides, to tell you a secret of mine which even Pilar doesn't know, though she has most others at her finger-end, your mother was my first love. I adored her! You have her eyes!"

Whereupon I shook hands with the Cherub.

XVIII

THE MAN WHO LOVED PILAR

When Ropes had gone to send a telegram to Paris, d.i.c.k and I talked the matter over from so many points of view, that Colonel O'Donnel apparently went to sleep. It was only when I burst into vituperation against Carmona, that the excellent man suddenly showed signs of life.

"I've been thinking," said he, and I found myself cheering up at the statement; for I had noticed that, though the Cherub often had the air of being silent through laziness; that from his mellifluous Andaluz he discarded all possible consonants as he would discard the bones of fish; yet, with his murmurings, invariably rolled from his tongue some jewel of good sense.

"We have a friend near Madrid," said he, "who has an automobile. I know little about such things; but when I heard that you had a twenty-four horse-power Gloria, I thought, 'It is the same as the Conde de Roldan's.'

It will be days before your new parts can come from Paris, even if you send Ropes; and there are few automobiles on sale here, if any. It's a hundred chances to one you could get parts to fit your car in that way.

But if Don Cipriano's car is what I think, he will give you what you want.

When the new parts arrive, they will be for him."

"Colonel O'Donnel," said d.i.c.k, "you and your family are bricks!"

"That's true," said I; "but if you could persuade your friend to such an act of generosity, I couldn't accept. I-"

"Oh," said the good man, with cherubic slyness, "he would give his left hand for such a chance to please us! Perhaps you haven't noticed that my _nina_ is rather attractive; but it has not escaped the observation of Don Cipriano."

So the wind blew from that quarter! I threw a glance at d.i.c.k, and saw on his face the same expression of disconcerted _amour propre_ I had once seen when a bullet went whistling by his nose. But he said nothing about either missile; and now it was left for me to justify our appreciation of the senorita.

Ordinarily, if there is one thing which the Cherub loves, it is to dawdle, but now he rose without a sigh and remarked that there was no time to waste. He must fetch Pilar.

"She will have gone to bed," I objected.