"You shall judge. About an hour before the opening of the theatre, Don Valentine himself—you understand me?—came to my house with two friends, doubtless cutthroats in his pay, and revealed all to me; what do you say to that?"
"I say that if this man does not die we are hopelessly lost."
"That is my opinion too," the general remarked coldly.
"How came it that, in spite of this terrible revelations, you ventured to show yourself at the theatre?"
Don Sebastian smiled and shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
"Ought I to let even indifferent persons see the anxiety that devoured me? Undeceive yourself, colonel, boldness alone can save us; do not forget that we are risking our heads at this moment."
"I am not likely to forget it."
"As for this man, the Zaragate, I must not and will not see him; but do you deal with him as you think proper. You understand that it is of the utmost importance that I should be ignorant of the arrangements you may make with him, and be able to prove, if necessary, that I had no knowledge of this. Moreover, as you are aware, I am not one for extreme measures; the sight of such a villain would be repulsive to me, for I have such a horror of bloodshed. Alas!" he added, with a sigh, "I have been forced to shed only too much in the course of my life."
"I do not know exactly," the colonel muttered.
"I have entire confidence in you; you are an intelligent man; I give you full authority, and whatever you do will be well done. You understand me, I trust?"