The major was aghast. He had changed colour, and through his eyes, wide and staring, his stupefaction glared forth at them.
Minas uttered a dry cough under cover of his hand, and screwed up his eyeglass to regard the major more attentively. "You do not appear to have considered all that," he said.
"But, my dear Marquis," was the half-indignant answer, "why was I not told all this to begin with? You represented yourself as but indifferently informed, Monsieur de Samoval. Whereas - "
"So I am, my dear Major, as far as information goes. If I did not use these arguments before, it was because it seemed to me an impertinence to offer what, after all, are no more than the conclusions of my own constructive and deductive reasoning to one so well versed in strategy as yourself."
The major was silenced for a moment. "I congratulate you, Count," he said. "Monsieur le Marechal shall have your views without delay.
Tell me," he begged. "You say these fortifications lie in the region of Torres Vedras. Can you be more precise?"
"I think so. But again I warn you that I can tell you only what I infer. I judge they will run from the sea, somewhere near the mouth of the Zizandre, in a semicircle to the Tagus, somewhere to the south of Santarem. I know that they do not reach as far north as San, because the roads there are open, whereas all roads to the south, where I am assuming that the fortifications lie, are closed and closely guarded."
"Why do you suggest a semicircle?"
"Because that is the formation of the hills, and presumably the line of heights would be followed."
"Yes," the major approved slowly. "And the distance, then, would be some thirty or forty miles?"
"Fully."
The major's face relaxed its gravity. He even smiled. "You will agree, Count, that in a line of that extent a uniform strength is out of the question. It must perforce present many weak, many vulnerable, places."
"Oh, undoubtedly."
"Plans of these lines must be in existence."
"Again undoubtedly. Sir Terence O'Moy will have plans in his possession showing their projected extent. Colonel Fletcher, who is in charge of the construction, is in constant communication with the adjutant, himself an engineer; and - as I partly imagine, partly infer from odd phrases that I have overheard - especially entrusted by Lord Wellington with the supervision of the works."
"Two things, then, are necessary," said the major promptly. "The first is, that the devastation of the country should be retarded, and as far as possible hindered altogether."
"That," said Minas, "you may safely leave to myself and Souza's other friends, the northern noblemen who have no intention of becoming the victims of British disinclination to pitched battles."
"The second - and this is more difficult - is that we should obtain by hook or by crook a plan of the fortifications." And he looked directly at Samoval.
The Count nodded slowly, but his face expressed doubt.
"I am quite alive to the necessity. I always have been. But - "
"To a man of your resource and intelligence - an intelligence of which you have just given such veer signal proof - the matter should be possible." He paused a moment. Then: "If I understand you correctly, Monsieur de Samoval, your fortunes have suffered deeply, and you are almost ruined by this policy of Wellington's.
You are offered the opportunity of making a magnificent recovery.
The Emperor is the most generous paymaster in the world, and he is beyond measure impatient at the manner in which the campaign in the Peninsula is dragging on. He has spoken of it as an ulcer that is draining the Empire of its resources. For the man who could render him the service of disclosing the weak spot in this armour, the Achilles heel of the British, there would be a reward beyond all your possible dreams. Obtain the plans, then, and - "
He checked abruptly. The door had opened, and in a Venetian mirror facing him upon the wall the major caught the reflection of a British uniform, the stiff gold collar surmounted by a bronzed hawk face with which he was acquainted.
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the officer in Portuguese, "I was looking for - "
His voice became indistinct, so that they never knew who it was that he had been seeking when he intruded upon their privacy. The door had closed again and the reflection had vanished from the mirror.
But there were beads of perspiration on the major's brow.
"It is fortunate," he muttered breathlessly, "that my back was towards him. I would as soon meet the devil face to face. I didn't dream he was in Lisbon."
"Who is he?" asked Minas.
"Colonel Grant, the British Intelligence officer. Phew! Name of a Name! What an escape!" The major mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief. "Beware of him, Monsieur de Samoval."
He rose. He was obviously shaken by the meeting.
"If one of you will kindly make quite sure that he is not about I think that I had better go. If we should meet everything might be ruined." Then with a change of manner he stayed Samoval, who was already on his way to the door. "We understand each other, then?" he questioned them. "I have my papers, and at dawn I leave Lisbon.
I shall report your conclusions to the Prince, and in anticipation I may already offer you the expression of his profoundest gratitude.
Meanwhile, you know what is to do. Opposition to the policy, and the plans of the fortifications - above all the plans."
He shook hands with them, and having waited until Samoval assured him that the corridor outside was clear, he took his departure, and was soon afterwards driving home, congratulating himself upon his most fortunate escape from the hawk eye of Colquhoun Grant.
But when in the dead of that night he was awakened to find a British sergeant with a halbert and six redcoats with fixed bayonets surrounding his bed it occurred to him belatedly that what one man can see in a mirror is also visible to another, and that Marshal Massena, Prince of Esslingen, waiting for information beyond Ciudad Rodrigo, would never enjoy the advantages of a report of Count Samoval's masterly constructive and deductive reasoning.
