"But where am I?" I asked, in the same low voice.
"In the old cartel on the outskirts of the town," Hermaños replied. "Now I want you to pay attention to what I am about to say to you. There is still time to retrieve matters, if we go the proper way to work about it. The President, when he left the ball to-night—and now you will be able to understand his reasons for leaving so early—drove out to consult with General Mopaxus, who is lying ill at his house six miles distant on the road to Sarbassa. The road in question is hilly, and it will take him at least an hour to get there. We will say that he remains with the General an hour. In that case, he should not reach the Capital until four o'clock at the earliest. Word must be sent to the captain of the yacht to shift his moorings and to have a boat ashore at the little bay of Horejos at three o'clock. Horejos is three miles outside the city, and Fernandez will have to pass through the village on his way home. We must catch him at any hazard."
"How many men have you with you?"
"Seven," he replied.
"Can they be relied upon?"
"To the death! They know that their own safety depends upon getting Fernandez out of the way. Four of them he has suspected for some time past. They would prefer to shoot him, and so make sure of him, but as there are definite orders against that, they feel that the next best thing they can do is to get him out of the country. And between ourselves, that is exactly my own case."
"And what about the Guards here?"
"They are safe for the present," he answered. "But no time must be lost, for it is more than likely that at daybreak others will come to take their places."
"And how am I to communicate with Ferguson?"
He fumbled in his pocket for a moment.