"Pardon me, Caballero," Don Miguel said coldly, "but, with your permission, we will remain a few moments longer in it."
"Why so?" General Ventura asked, opening his eyes to their fullest extent.
"I will tell you."
Don Miguel pointed to a chair, and sat down himself. Ibañez following his example. There was a moment of deep silence between these three men as they strove to read each other's real secret thoughts.
"I am waiting your pleasure to explain yourself," the governor at last said, as he was anxious to get away, and time pressed.
"I am about doing so," Don Miguel answered; "you have come to tell us we are free, sir; but you do not say on what conditions."
"What do you mean by conditions?" the general asked, not understanding him.
"Of course," Ibañez went on, supporting his friend; "and these conditions, too, must suit us; you must see, my dear sir, we cannot leave this delightful place without knowing the why or wherefore. Viva Cristo! We are not vagabonds to be got rid of in that way; we must know if we are justified in accepting the proposals you have just made."
"The general is right, sir," the hacendero said in his turn; "the care of our honor does not permit us to accept a liberation which might stain it; hence, we shall not leave this prison until you have given us an explanation."
The governor hardly knew whether he was on his head or his heels; he had never before had to deal with such obstinate prisoners. He racked his brains in vain to discover why it was that men condemned to death could so peremptorily decline their liberty. His ideas were too narrow, his heart was too cowardly for him to comprehend the grandeur and nobility in this determination on the part of two men, who preferred an honourable death to a branded life which they only owed to the pity of their judges. Still, he must induce them to quit the prison, for time was fast slipping away, and their obstinacy might ruin everything. Hence, General Ventura made up his mind like a man.