The shadowy host did not linger in the monastery itself. They swept through hastily, in at the garden entrance, along the corridor, and out by the great portico door upon La Cruz Plaza. They had passed the citadel. The town lay before them. But in the Plaza were more cannon, which had been taken from the trenches and massed for the supreme effort. They lay silent, under the silent bells of the church. They lay under the giant Cross of the Apparition, which was adorned by the Inditos with garlands in vague memory of pagan rites on that very spot. They lay under the splendid Arabian palms. They lay among defenders. To take them was like prowling with a torch among broken casks of gunpowder. Not a shot must be fired until the thing was done. Otherwise, a quick second shot was to find the heart of Lopez. So Lopez was exceedingly cautious. However, he commanded here. He was the Emperor’s favorite. Squad after squad, the drowsy Imperialists moved off, letting the strangers relieve them. So the critical work was achieved, even as day appeared over the eastern hills. Then he who had kept so close to Lopez put his revolver away.
“Your bargain is fulfilled, señor,” he said. “Accordingly, here’s the paper I was to give you. It is your safe conduct throughout the Republic. You are free. Go!”
Lopez clutched the thing that meant his life, but as his fingers tightened over it, his first greed vanished. He stared about him uncertainly. The Plaza swarmed with men. They were the gray battalion he had led there. In the dawning light they were still gray. They were the Supremos Poderes de la República. De la República? Yes, of the enemy, and he had brought them. But it was as though he had just awakened, and found them there. The enemy? The enemy was in La Cruz! With a sharp cry, he turned and ran back into the 439monastery. He brushed aside the hateful gray uniforms. He ran panting up the stone steps. In the dark hall above he stopped at a cell door, and pounded, and tugged frantically at its latch.
“Señor, awake! Hurry! We are betrayed! Hurry! Escape–escape––”
Within came a startled sleepy voice, “What, what’s–” which changed at once to reproving dignity. “Can it be?–Lopez!”
“But señor–sire–the Chinacos, the Republicans, they are here already!”
“Colonel Lopez!” In its shocked surprise the voice was edged with rebuke. “Man, man, where are your years of training near my person? One would think you some boorish night-watchman.”
Lopez outside the door dropped his hands, and fell abjectedly silent, as servilely abashed in his lapse of etiquette as though he stood the traitor unmasked.
“Now then, Miguel,” spoke the Emperor more kindly, “go to General Mejía and the others. Let them have the goodness to attend me here.”
Lopez turned on down the corridor, stopped at the doors of Generals Mejía and Castillo, and the Prince Salm-Salm. At each he tapped lightly, as one dazed, and announced that the enemy surrounded them. Then, remembering, he fled.