Alzugaray ate alone, and after he had had coffee, he directed his steps to the bookstore of the Republican councilman, of whom Cæsar had spoken to him. He found it in a corner of the Square; and it was at the same time a stationer’s shop and a newsdealer’s. Behind the counter were an old man and a lad.
Alzugaray went in. He bought various Madrid periodicals from the lad, and then addressing the old man, asked him:
“Haven’t you some sort of a map of the province, or of the neighbourhood of Castro Duro?”
“No, sir, there isn’t one.”
“Nor a guidebook, perhaps?”
“Nor that either. At the townhall we have a map of the town....”
“Only of the part built up?”
“Yes.”
“Then it would do me no good.”
“You want a map for making excursions, eh?”