The guilty spy was seized with a convulsive trembling, his teeth chattered, and he fell upon his knees, crying with terror:
"Mercy, my lord, mercy!"
Don Gregorio tore off his mask, and revealed the face of the spy, whose features, horribly contracted by fear, and of an ashy paleness, were really hideous.
"Don Pedro," Don Tadeo said, in a stern voice, "you have several times sought to sell your brothers of the society; it was you who caused the death of the ten patriots shot upon the Place of Santiago; it was you who betrayed the secret of the Quinta Verde to the soldiers of Bustamente; this very day, even, scarcely two hours ago, you held a long conversation with General Bustamente, in which you agreed to deliver up to him tomorrow the principal chiefs of the Dark-Hearts: is that true?"
The miserable wretch had not a word to say in his defence; confounded, overwhelmed by the irresistible proofs accumulated against him, he hung down his head in utter abandonment.
"Is this true?" Don Tadeo reiterated.
"It is true," he murmured, in a scarcely audible voice.
"You acknowledge yourself guilty?"
"Yes," he said, with a heart-stifling sob; "but grant me life, noble seigneur, and I swear——"
"Silence!"