Meantime a little scene that would afford Ashley the keenest delight to witness is taking place in one of the rooms of the palace. Gen. Truenos is seated at a table littered with maps and papers and Gen. Murillo and Isabel Harding have just been ushered into the apartment.
“You have succeeded?” Truenos asks as Mrs. Harding approaches.
“Beyond expectation. Quesada may not be the head and front of the offenders, but he is certainly one in whom there has been placed some authority.”
“Quesada is now a fugitive,” asserts Truenos.
“Indeed?” This is news to Isabel. “Ashley’s warning,” she thinks. “When did you learn this, general?”
“To-day. He has taken refuge on board the United States cruiser. I have strongly suspected Quesada, but have not particularly feared him. Quesada is a figurehead. What I want is proof of conspiracy on the part of men any one of whom is more troublesome than a dozen Quesadas—men I suspect to be conspiring against the government even while pretending to serve it.”
“Would certain dispatches from Don Quesada addressed to Capt. Francisco Guerra furnish the necessary evidence?” asks Mrs. Harding.
“Ah! You have intercepted such?”
“Better. I am the bearer of them.”
Truenos regards his spy admiringly. “Bueno! The papers at once!” he cries.