'Yes, I remember; and why do you want that letter?'

'For the sake of Julia Barenna.'

'Ah! I want it for the sake of Estella Vincente.'

Concha laughed shortly.

'Yes,' he said. 'It is only up to the age of twenty-five that men
imagine themselves to be the rulers of the world. But we need not
bid against each other, my son. Perhaps a sight of the letter
before I destroy it would satisfy the senorita.'

'No, we need not bid against each other,' began Conyngham; but the
priest dragged him back into the doorway with a quick whisper of
'Silence!'

Someone was coming down the other stairway of the tall house, with
slow and cautious steps. Conyngham and his companion drew back to
the foot of the stairs and waited. It became evident that he who
descended the steps did so without a light. At the door he seemed
to stop, probably making sure that the narrow alley was deserted. A
moment later he hurried past the door where the two men stood. The
moon was almost clear, and by its light both the watchers recognised
Larralde in a flash of thought. The next instant Esteban Larralde
was running for his life with Frederick Conyngham on his heels.

The lamp at the corner of the Calle Preciados had been shattered
against the wall by a gust of wind, and both men clattered through a