"Señors," El Alferez said, addressing the two naval officers and Ramirez, "wait for me in this room; in ten minutes I will join you again."
And without awaiting a reply, he made a sign to the pulquero to lead the way, and left the room with a rapid step. There was a momentary silence with the three men; they seemed to be engaged in sad thoughts, and looked anxiously around them. Time, which never stands still, had rapidly advanced during the course of the events we have narrated. Nearly the whole night had passed away, the first gleams of dawn were beginning to whiten the smoky walls of the pulqueria, and already some inhabitants, who had risen earlier than the others, were venturing into the streets; ere long the sun would make its appearance.
"Day will soon be here," Don Serapio remarked, as he shook his head anxiously.
"What matter?" Ramirez answered.
"What matter, do you say?" Don Serapio replied in amazement; "but it seems to me that one of the most important conditions for the enterprise we are about to attempt, is darkness."
"Certainly," Don Cristoval supported him, "if we wait till the sun has risen, any surprise will be impossible."
Ramirez shrugged his shoulders.
"You do not know the man under whose orders you have voluntarily placed yourselves," he answered; "impossible things are those he prefers attempting."
"You know him better than we do then, as you speak thus of him?"
"Better than you or anyone," the sailor said with considerable animation; "I have the greatest faith in him; for ten years I have lived by his side, and have many times been able to appreciate all the nobility and generosity that exist in his heart."