Three medical experts testified that death brought about as this one had been could not be distinguished from apoplexy. The physician who had been called in had not thought to look for the head of the nail, which was concealed by the hair of the victim, nor was he in any sense to blame for this oversight.
The judge immediately issued a warrant for the arrest of Doña Gabriela Zahara del Valle, widow of Señor Romeral.
"Tell me," I asked the judge one day, "do you think you will ever capture this woman?"
"I'm positive of it."
"Why?"
"Because in the midst of all these routine criminal affairs there occurs now and then what may be termed a dramatic fatality which never fails. To put it in another way: when the bones come out of the tomb to testify, there is very little left for the judge to do."
In spite of the hopes of my friend, Gabriela was not found, and three months later she was, according to the laws of Spain, tried, found guilty, and condemned to death in her absence.
I returned home, not without promising to be with Zarco the following year.
IV
That winter I passed in Granada. One evening I had been invited to a great ball given by a prominent Spanish lady. As I was mounting the stairs of the magnificent residence, I was startled by the sight of a face which was easily distinguishable even in this crowd of southern beauties. It was she, my unknown, the mysterious woman of the stagecoach, in fact, No. 1, of whom I spoke at the beginning of this narrative.
I made my way toward her, extending my hand in greeting. She recognized me at once.
"Señora," I said, "I have kept my promise not to search for you. I did not know I would meet you here. Had I suspected it I would have refrained from coming, for fear of annoying you. Now that I am here, tell me whether I may recognize you and talk to you."
"I see that you are vindictive," she answered graciously, putting her little hand in mine. "But I forgive you. How are you?"
"In truth, I don't know. My health--that is, the health of my soul, for you would not ask me about anything else in a ballroom--depends upon the health of yours. What I mean is that I could only be happy if you are happy. May I ask if that wound of the heart which you told me about when I met you in the stagecoach has healed?"
"You know as well as I do that there are wounds which never heal."
With a graceful bow she turned away to speak to an acquaintance, and I asked a friend of mine who was passing: "Can you tell me who that woman is?"
"A South American whose name is Mercedes de Meridanueva."
On the following day I paid a visit to the lady, who was residing at that time at the Hotel of the Seven Planets. The charming Mercedes received me as if I were an intimate friend, and invited me to walk with her through the wonderful Alhambra and subsequently to dine with her. During the six hours we were together she spoke of many things, and as we always returned to the subject of disappointed love, I felt impelled to tell her the experience of my friend, Judge Zarco.
She listened to me very attentively and when I concluded she laughed and said: "Let this be a lesson to you not to fall in love with women whom you do not know."
"Do not think for a moment," I answered, "that I've invented this story."
"Oh, I don't doubt the truth of it. Perhaps there may be a mysterious woman in the Hotel of the Seven Planets of Granada, and perhaps she doesn't resemble the one your friend fell in love with in Sevilla. So far as I am concerned, there is no risk of my falling in love with anyone, for I never speak three times to the same man."
"Señora! That is equivalent to telling me that you refuse to see me again!"
"No, I only wish to inform you that I leave Granada to-morrow, and it is probable that we will never meet again."
"Never? You told me that during our memorable ride in the stagecoach, and you see that you are not a good prophet."
I noticed that she had become very pale. She rose from the table abruptly, saying: "Well, let us leave that to Fate. For my part I repeat that I am bidding you an eternal farewell."
She said these last words very solemnly, and then with a graceful bow, turned and ascended the stairway which led to the upper story of the hotel.
I confess that I was somewhat annoyed at the disdainful way in which she seemed to have terminated our acquaintance, yet this feeling was lost in the pity I felt for her when I noted her expression of suffering.
We had met for the last time. Would to God that it had been for the last time! Man proposes, but God disposes.
V
A few days later business affairs brought me to the town wherein resided my friend Judge Zarco. I found him as lonely and as sad as at the time of my last visit. He had been able to find out nothing about Blanca, but he could not forget her for a moment. Unquestionably this woman was his fate; his heaven or his hell, as the unfortunate man was accustomed to saying.
We were soon to learn that his judicial superstition was to be fully justified.
The evening of the day of my arrival we were seated in his office, reading the last reports of the police, who had been vainly attempting to trace Gabriela, when an officer entered and handed the judge a note which read as follows:
"In the Hotel of the Lion there is a lady who wishes to speak to Judge Zarco."
"Who brought this?" asked the judge.
"A servant."
"Who sent him?"
"He gave no name."
The judge looked thoughtfully at the smoke of his cigar for a few moments, and then said: "A woman! To see me? I don't know why, but this thing frightens me. What do you think of it, Philip?"
"That it is your duty as a judge to answer the call, of course. Perhaps she may be able to give you some information in regard to Gabriela."
"You are right," answered Zarco, rising. He put a revolver in his pocket, threw his cloak over his shoulders and went out.
Two hours later he returned.
I saw at once by his face that some great happiness must have come to him. He put his arms about me and embraced me convulsively, exclaiming: "Oh, dear friend, if you only knew, if you only knew!"
"But I don't know anything," I answered. "What on earth has happened to you?"
"I'm simply the happiest man in the world!"
"But what is it?"
"The note that called me to the hotel was from _her_."
"But from whom? From Gabriela Zahara?"
"Oh, stop such nonsense! Who is thinking of those things now? It was she, I tell you, the other one!"
"In the name of heaven, be calm and tell me whom you are talking about."
"Who could it be but Blanca, my love, my life?"
"Blanca?" I answered with astonishment. "But the woman deceived you."
"Oh, no; that was all a foolish mistake on my part."
"Explain yourself."
"Listen: Blanca adores me!"
"Oh, you think she does? Well, go on."
"When Blanca and I separated on the fifteenth of April, it was understood that we were to meet again on the fifteenth of May. Shortly after I left she received a letter calling her to Madrid on urgent family business, and she did not expect me back until the fifteenth of May, so she remained in Madrid until the first. But, as you know, I, in my impatience could not wait, and returned fifteen days before I had agreed, and not finding her at the hotel I jumped to the conclusion that she had deceived me, and I did not wait. I have gone through two years of torment and suffering, all due to my own stupidity."
"But she could have written you a letter."
"She said that she had forgotten the address."
"Ah, my poor friend," I exclaimed, "I see that you are striving to convince yourself. Well, so much the better. Now, when does the marriage take place? I suppose that after so long and dark a night the sun of matrimony will rise radiant."
"Don't laugh," exclaimed Zarco; "you shall be my best man."
"With much pleasure."
* * * * *
Man proposes, but God disposes. We were still seated in the library, chatting together, when there came a knock at the door. It was about two o'clock in the morning. The judge and I were both startled, but we could not have told why. The servant opened the door, and a moment later a man dashed into the library so breathless from hard running that he could scarcely speak.
"Good news, judge, grand news!" he said when he recovered breath. "We have won!"
The man was the prosecuting attorney.
"Explain yourself, my dear friend," said the judge, motioning him to a chair. "What remarkable occurrence could have brought you hither in such haste and at this hour of the morning?"
"We have arrested Gabriela Zahara."
"Arrested her?" exclaimed the judge joyfully.
"Yes, sir, we have her. One of our detectives has been following her for a month. He has caught her, and she is now locked up in a cell of the prison."
"Then let us go there at once!" exclaimed the judge. "We will interrogate her to-night. Do me the favor to notify my secretary. Owing to the gravity of the case, you yourself must be present. Also notify the guard who has charge of the head of Señor Romeral. It has been my opinion from the beginning that this criminal woman would not dare deny the horrible murder when she was confronted with the evidence of her crime. So far as you are concerned," said the judge, turning to me, "I will appoint you assistant secretary, so that you can be present without violating the law."