know the Carlists are.  A plot, believe me, to
assassinate and rob and kidnap.’

‘Yes,’ said the General with his tolerant little smile.  ‘Yes, my dear
Padre.  Some men are so bloodthirsty; is it not so?’

‘This plot is directed against the little Queen; against the Queen
Regent; against many who are notable Royalists occupying high posts in
the Government or the army.’

He glanced at Estella, and then looked meaningly at the General, who
could scarcely fail to comprehend.  ‘Let us deal with the Queen and the
Queen Regent,’ said Vincente; ‘the others are probably able to take care
of themselves.’

‘None can guard himself against assassination.’

The General seemed for a moment inclined to dispute this statement, but
shrugged his shoulders and finally passed it by.

‘The Queen,’ he said.  ‘What of her?’

In response, Conchaone advantage in a soldier’s life,’ he said, smiling at
Conyngham, ‘which is not, I think, sufficiently recognised—namely, that
one’s duty is so often clearly defined.  At the present moment it is a
question of keeping up the deception we have practised upon these good
people of Toledo sufficiently long to enable the Queen Regent to reach
Madrid.  In order to make certain of this we must lead the people to
understand that the Queen is in this house until, at least, daylight.
Given so much advantage, I think that her Majesty can reach the capital
an hour before any messenger from Toledo.  Two horsemen quitted the
Bridge of Alcantara as we crossed it, riding towards Madrid; but they
will not reach the capital—I have seen to that.’

He paused and walked to one of the