[12]

"There is one whom you have believed a friend, Senor Owen. Trust him not, for he has sworn to work your downfall."

"Which is very interesting, to say the least. Am I to be arrested as a Fenian suspect, come over the big pond to duplicate the Burke and Cavendish tragedy of Phœnix park? Or is this sly schemer a Spanish sympathizer in the pay of Sagasta?"

"You have said it, senor—the last is the truth. But there is more—another reason why he hates you."

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind mentioning it?"

"His name first—it is Jerome Wellington."

Owen seemed startled.

"Confusion—I never suspected that he was in Sagasta's pay. Luckily I have made it a rule to be as close mouthed as an oyster with regard to all state secrets. So friend Jerome has a private grudge against me. When have I trod upon his toes? Kindly enlighten me, good angel?"

"It is on her account—the dashing Senorita Cleo," came the muffled answer, and again Owen knew the eyes back of the veil were fastened intently upon him as though to read his secret.

Thereupon he pursed up his mustached lip and emitted a low, incredulous whistle.

"Cleo Fairfax, my independent cousin, the daughter of ten millions, what has she to do with the case? Is Jerome jealous—does he seek her hand—well, let him sail in and win. I shall not stand in the way, for it has never occurred to me to fall in love with my cousin."

"Ah! senor, that is very well, but this man who is as handsome as an Adonis hates you because he knows the American senorita loves you."

"What! Cleo loves me—incredible—impossible."

[13]

[13]

"More, she adores you."

"Senorita, you surely jest or dream."

"I speak what I know, and the fact is patent to everyone that you have but to declare a word to bring this lovely girl and her millions to your arms."

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