"I do!" Don Tadeo observed in a firm voice.
Don Gregorio gave a start of surprise.
"That astonishes you, does it not, my friend? But what is to be said? So it is. I am only anxious to lay down power, which is a burden too heavy for my worn-out strength, and to return again to private life."
"Oh! do not say that," Don Gregorio replied warmly; "the gratitude of the people is eternal."
"All smoke, my friend," Don Tadeo observed, ironically. "Are you sure the people are pleased with what I have done? But let us end this; my resolution is taken, and nothing can change it."
"But—" Don Gregorio wished to add.
"One word more," said Don Tadeo. "To be a statesman, my friend, a man must march alone in the way he has marked out for himself; he must have neither children, relations, nor friends. The man who is in power ought to be only human in appearance."
"What do you mean to do, then?"
"In the first place to send General Bustamente to Santiago: although the man merits death, I will not take upon myself the responsibility of his condemnation; enough blood has been shed by my orders. He shall depart tomorrow with General Cornejo and the senator Sandias, sufficiently escorted to secure him from a coup de main."
"Your orders shall be punctually obeyed."