A large sedan was waiting in front of the station. A driver wearing a chapella, the big, wide-brimmed beret of the Basques, greeted Jaime with warm hugs, and the group got into the car.
Megan noticed that Jaime stayed close to Amparo, ready to grab her if she tried to make a move. What's he going to do to her? Megan wondered.
"We were worried about you, Jaime," the driver said. "According to the press, Colonel Acoca is conducting a big hunt for you."
Jaime laughed. "Let him keep hunting, Gil. I am out of season."
They drove down the Avenida Sancho el Savio, toward the beach. It was a cloudless summer day and the streets were crowded with strolling couples bent on pleasure. The harbor was awash with yachts and smaller craft. The distant mountains formed a picturesque backdrop for the city. Everything seemed so peaceful.
"What are the arrangements?" Jaime asked the driver.
"The Hotel Niza. Largo Cortez is waiting for you."
"It will be good to see the old pirate again."
The Niza was a medium-class hotel in the Plaza Juan de Olezabal, off the Calle de San Martin on the corner of a busy square. It was a white building with brown shutters and a big blue sign at the top. The rear of the hotel backed onto a beach.
When the car pulled up in front of the hotel, the group got out and followed Jaime into the lobby.
Largo Cortez, the hotel owner, ran up to greet them. He was a large man. He had only one arm as the result of a daring exploit, and he moved awkwardly, as though off-balance.
"Welcome," he said, beaming. "I have been expecting you for a week now."
Jaime shrugged. "We had a few delays, amigo."
Largo Cortez grinned. "I read about them. The papers are full of nothing else." He turned to look at Megan and Graciela. "Everyone is rooting for you, Sisters. I have your rooms all prepared."
"We'll be staying overnight," Jaime told him. "We'll leave first thing in the morning and cross into France. I want a good guide who knows all the passes - either Cabrera Infante or Jose Cebrian."
"I will arrange it," the hotel owner assured him. "There will be six of you?"
Jaime glanced at Amparo. "Five."
Amparo looked away.
"I suggest that none of you registers," Cortez said. "What the police don't know won't hurt them. Why don't you let me take you to your rooms, where you can refresh yourselves? Then we'll have a magnificent supper."
"Amparo and I are going to the bar to have a drink," Jaime said. "We'll join you later."
Largo Cortez nodded. "As you wish, Jaime."
Megan was watching Jaime, puzzled. She wondered what he planned to do with Amparo. Is he going to cold-bloodedly - ? She could not bear even to think about it.
Amparo was wondering too, but she was too proud to ask.
Jaime led her into the bar at the far end of the lobby and took a table in the corner.
When the waiter approached them, Jaime said, "A glass of wine, por favor."
"One?"
"One."
Amparo watched as Jaime took out a small packet and opened it. It contained a fine, powdery substance.
"Jaime - " There was desperation in Amparo's voice. "Please listen to me! Try to understand why I did what I did. You're tearing the country apart. Your cause is hopeless. You must stop this insanity."
The waiter reappeared and set a glass of wine on the table. When he walked away, Jaime carefully poured the contents of the packet into the glass and stirred it. He pushed the glass in front of Amparo.
"Drink it."
"No!"
"Not many of us are privileged to choose the way we die," Jaime said quietly. "This way will be quick and painless. If I turn you over to my people, I can't make any such promise."
"Jaime - I loved you once. You must believe me. Please - "
"Drink it." His voice was implacable.
Amparo looked at him for a long moment, then picked up the glass. "I'll drink to your death."
He watched as Amparo put the glass to her lips and swallowed the wine in one gulp.
She shuddered. "What happens now?"
"I'll help you upstairs. I'll put you to bed. You'll sleep."
Amparo's eyes filled with tears. "You're a fool," she whispered. "Jaime - I'm dying, and I tell you that I loved you so - " Her words were beginning to slur.
Jaime rose and helped Amparo to her feet. She stood up, unsteady. The room seemed to be rocking.
"Jaime - "
He guided her out the door and into the lobby, holding her up. Largo Cortez was waiting for him with a key.
"I'll take her to her room," Jaime said. "See that she's not disturbed."
"Right."
Cortez watched as Jaime half-carried Amparo up the stairs.
In her room, Megan was thinking how strange it felt to be by herself in a hotel in a resort town. San Sebastian was filled with people on vacation, honeymooners, lovers enjoying themselves in a hundred other hotel rooms. And suddenly Megan wished Jaime were there with her, and wondered what it would be like to have him make love to her. All the feelings that she had been suppressing for so long came flooding into her mind in a wild torrent of emotions.
But what did Jaime do to Amparo? Could he possibly have...but no, he could never have done that. Or could he? I want him, she thought. Oh, Lord, what's happening to me? What can I do?
Ricardo was whistling as he dressed. He was in a wonderful mood. I'm the luckiest man in the world, he thought. We'll be married in France. There's a beautiful church across the border in Bayonne. Tomorrow...
In her room, Graciela was taking a bath, luxuriating in the warm water, thinking of Ricardo. She smiled to herself and thought: I'm going to make him so happy. Thank You, God.