No part of the dismal drama which followed the execution had escaped them. They had seen Don Tadeo rise like a phantom from the heap of carcasses which covered him; they had heard the words he had pronounced, and were preparing to go to his succour, when the two strangers, appearing suddenly, raised his body and bore it away. This carrying off of a half dead man had surprised them exceedingly. After exchanging a few words, two of them went in pursuit of the mysterious strangers, probably in order to learn to what house the wounded man was taken, whilst the others, twelve in number, advanced to the middle of the square.
They anxiously bent down and examined the bodies stretched at their feet, hoping, perhaps, that another victim might have escaped the slaughter. Unfortunately, Don Tadeo was the only one saved by some inexplicable mystery. The nine other victims were all dead. After a long examination, the patriots stood up again with a painful sigh of regret, and one of them went and knocked at a lower door of the cathedral.
"Who is there?" was immediately asked from the interior.
"One for whom the night hath no darkness," the man who had knocked replied.
"What do you want?" the voice asked again.
"Is it not written: Knock and it shall be opened to thee?" the stranger added.
"Our country!" said the voice.
"Or vengeance!" the man promptly replied.
The door opened, and a monk appeared. His cowl pulled down over his face, prevented his features being seen.
"Well," he said, "what do the Dark-Hearts require?"