“But we wish to see first if she is here,” said Lopez. “Don Tiburcio thought she might be at vespers.”
“Vespers? There are no vespers to-night. Yet we come here! Why? Why do we come here?”
Tiburcio motioned to the guards. “Hold him until we return,” he ordered.
A Dragoon reached out a hand indifferently to Murguía’s collar, and that second the old man’s ten fingers were at his throat. They overpowered him at last, but they would have fared better with a wildcat.
Tiburcio and Lopez went alone. They stopped before the covered thing near the church door.
“So,” mused the colonel, “she ended it this way.”
“From the tower,” Tiburcio grimly added.
“His––”
“Well, say it. You mean His Majesty?”
“His Majesty need know nothing of the–of the finale.”