There, however, he was mistaken. Someone was hidden
in the house--in the big kitchen-bunk which served as a bed or a seat, as
needed. This someone had stolen in while Jean Jacques and M. Fille were
at supper. His name was Dolores, and he had a horse just over the hill
near by, to serve him when his work was done, and he could get away.
The constables of Vilray had twice visited the Manor to arrest him that
day, but they had been led in another direction by a clue which he had
provided; and afterwards in the dusk he had doubled back and hid himself
under Jean Jacques' roof. He had very important business at the Manor
Cartier.
Jean Jacques' voice ceased one song, and then, after a silence, it took
up another, not so melodious. Sebastian Dolores had impatiently waited
for this later "musicale" to begin--he had heard it often before; and
when it was at last a regular succession of nasal explosions, he crawled
out and began to do the business which had brought him to the Manor
Cartier.
He did it all alone and with much skill; for when he was an anarchist in
Spain, those long years ago, he had learned how to use tools with expert
understanding. Of late, Spain had been much in his mind. He wanted to go
back there. Nostalgia had possessed him ever since he had come again to
the Manor Cartier after Zoe had left. He thought much of Spain, and but
little of his daughter.
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