It was at the door of this building that all trace had been lost of countless Cuban insurgents, the members of their families, and of others who had in any way been suspected of sympathy with the cause of the rebels.
From here, in the late hours of night, countless doomed ones had been led away, ostensibly to imprisonment in Morro Castle or Cabanas Fortress—with this horrible peculiarity, that they had never reached their destinations or been heard from again!
To the Prefatura! For an instant, contemplating the letter which the captain now held in his hand, Hal felt his heart sinking utterly.
“I was sure I could not be mistaken,” murmured Senor Vasquez, softly.
That voice aroused the American as the bite of a snake would have done.
“Senor Vasquez,” he cried, throwing his head back proudly, “we have not seen the end of this matter!”
Then, bowing to the captain, Hal stepped between the two files of soldiers as they formed.
Down the stairs they started. Vasquez brought up the rear, gnashing his teeth.
He had found no trace of the money.
But perhaps he yet hoped to!