“And my reward?” suggests Isabel, as she takes from her bosom the precious envelope.
“Anything that you may ask—in reason,” replies the captain-general, reaching impatiently for the documents. “Why, how is this? This letter is addressed to me.”
“To you?” exclaims Isabel in astonishment. “Surely—why—there must be some mistake.”
“Evidently,” rejoins Truenos, as he breaks the seal.
Isabel watches him anxiously as he scans the document. A pale sickly light is beginning to break upon her bewilderment.
Ashley! The papers have been tampered with! It was for that he led her to the garden. How did he know, before they spoke, who were the two men whose meeting had interrupted their conversation in the summer house? And, oh, how weak she had been! She sees it all now and she swears she will be revenged. Aha! She knows where to wound him, to repay him in awful torture for the trick he has played upon her.
While these dark thoughts are flitting through her mind the captain-general has finished his brief examination of the letter, which he tosses over to her. She picks it up mechanically and reads:
“To His Excellency, Honorato de Truenos: Indisposition prevents my attending the grand ball to-night and offering my congratulations upon your safe arrival at Santiago. Under the directions of such a general there should be no difficulty in quickly subduing the insurrection, which I believe to be nearly at an end.
Manuel de Quesada.”
“I have been tricked, Gen. Truenos,” says Isabel, crushing the paper in her hand.