Midnight came, and the twelve strokes rang out from the church tower.
The theater had long since given up its last enthusiasts, and the square was now more or less deserted. All the paper lanterns had gone out, but the night was a clear one, and they could easily distinguish the shadows moving homewards under the arcades. None of them, though, came toward the inn. A quarter past twelve. Not one of the three men in the room dared say a word!
At half-past twelve, still nothing! The Marquis heaved a strangled sigh. At a quarter to one, Dick went over to the little lamp smoking on the table, took out his revolver, and opened it to see that it was loaded and working properly.
“Huascar has fooled us like children,” he said, vainly striving to control his voice. “He came here in broad daylight, with the knowledge of his accomplices, and threw sand in our eyes. He has kept us quiet for hours that were priceless to them, and might have been to us. I have no hope left. Maria-Teresa is lost, but I shall see her again if I die for it.”
He left the room. Don Christobal, catching up his cloak and arming himself as well, followed, Natividad in his wake. They crossed the square in silence. At the top of the alley leading down to the adobe house, Natividad asked the Marquis what he intended to do against fifty armed men.
“The first man we see will be offered a thousand soles to speak. If he refuses, a knife in the ribs. Then we shall see.”
When they reached the point where they had been stopped by Civil Guards earlier in the day, they were astonished to find the sentry gone. For a moment, there was a flicker of hope in their hearts, but when they had advanced another twenty yards and saw the house unguarded, they realized the truth. They ran forward and entered the open door. All the rooms were deserted. In one of them they found the same pungent odor as at the hacienda on the Chorillos road. “They are lost,” muttered Natividad, while the Marquis, breaking down at last, called his children’s names aloud through the deserted house.
Dick, exploring the place, fell over a crouching figure, and put all his pent-up rage into throwing the man. Half strangled and trembling with fear, the captured half-breed explained that he was the owner of the house. He had been roistering in the city, but the threat of death sobered him and loosened his tongue.
Just after eleven o’clock, a closed carriage had driven up to the door. He did not know who had entered it, but it had been escorted to the station by all the women and the Red Ponchos. This he knew for certain, because he had followed them out of curiosity. At the station, the man they called Huascar had given him some money, telling him to go away and not to return to the house before daylight “The blackguard!” growled Dick. “He knew we would come here when he didn’t turn up! Come on! To the station, quick!”
When they reached it, it was with the greatest difficulty that they finally unearthed an employee asleep on a bench. He made no secret of the fact that a large number of Indians had left at a quarter past eleven, in a special train ordered by Oviedo Runtu “for his servants.” No, they could not get another special train that night for all the money in the world. If they wanted to get to Sicuapi as well, they would have to wait until the morning. This said, he returned to his interrupted nap.