But this time, what is your
enterprise or pleasure, _Senor_? What do you in Spain?"

"My business in Spain," replied Benton slowly, "is to get out of Spain.
After that I don't know. Will you go and take chances of anything that
might befall? I sent for you to ask you whether you have leisure to
accompany me on an enterprise which may involve danger. It's only fair
to warn you."

Blanco laughed. "Who reads _manana_?" he demanded, seating himself on
the edge of the table, and busying his fingers with the deft rolling of
a cigarette. "The _toreador_ does not question the Prophets. I am at
your disposition. But the streets of Cadiz await us. Let us talk of it
all over the _table d'hote_."

An hour later found the two in the _Calle Duke de Tetuan_, blazing with
lights like a jeweler's show-case.

The narrow fissure between its walls was aflow with the evening current
of promenaders, crowding its scant breadth, and sending up a medley of
laughter and musical sibilants. Grandees strolled stiffly erect with
long capes thrown back across their left shoulders to show the brave
color of velvet linings. Young dandies of army and navy, conscious of
their multi-colored uniforms, sifted along through the press, toying
with rigidly-waxed mustaches and regarding the warm beauty of their
countrywomen through keen, appreciative eyes, not untinged with
sensuousness. Here and there a common _hombre_ in short jacket, wide,
low-crowned _sombrero_ and red sash, zig-zagged through the
pleasure-seekers to cut into a darker side street whence drifted pungent
whiffs of garlic, black olives and peppers from the stalls of the street
salad-venders. Occasionally a Moor in fez and wide-bagging trousers,
passed silently through the volatile chatter, looking on with jet eyes
and lips drawn down in an impervious dignity.

They found a table in one of the more prominent cafes from which they
could view through the plate-glass front the parade in the street, as
well as the groups of coffee-sippers within.

"Yonder," prompted Blanco, indicating with his eyes a near-by group, "he
with the green-lined cape, is the Duke de Tavira, one of the richest men
in Spain--it is on his estate that they breed the bulls for the rings of
Cadiz and Seville. Yonder, quarreling over politics, are newspaper men
and Republicans. Yonder, artists." He catalogued and assorted for the
American the personalities about the place, presuming the curiosity
which should be the tour