"What is this, Luco?" said the latter, as he hesitated to take the letter.
"Read it, mi amo," replied the sergeant. "I wanted to give you a complete surprise; but you are so obstinate, I am obliged to deploy my forces."
Don Guzman opened the letter with trembling hands, and rapidly ran through it.
"Almighty Father!" he exclaimed, "Is it possible? Doña Antonia has recovered her reason, and bids me live!"
"Will you obey this time, mi amo?"
"Do what you will, Luco; I will obey you in all things. Oh, how I wish to live now!"
"¡Cuerpo de Cristo! You shall live, mi amo. I swear it to you."
With this consoling promise, Luco quitted the prison.
The day of Guzman's trial arrived at last. The Dictator, who knew how much sympathy the prisoner excited, considered it prudent to make a grand military display on the occasion. The city was literally crammed with troops, the precautions being taken more for the purpose of intimidating the friends of the prisoner, than as precautionary measures against an escape, which he deemed impossible.
The French schooner, as Luco had predicted, sent a boat's crew ashore, on the pretence of closing the agent's accounts; she then weighed anchor, and stood on and off in the river expecting her boat.