“‘Is this the sort of watch which is kept in the prison?’ I demanded, roughly. ‘His Excellency, my uncle, would be pleased to hear of it.’
“The man was badly frightened. He stammered something about not being asleep; then, as I peered into his face, I recognized him as one of the men of my command.
“‘Ah, my friend,’ said I, in an altered tone, ‘you are one of those who arrived to-day?’
“‘Yes, Señor Capitan,’ he answered.
“‘But that is different,’ said I, kindly. ‘How is it that you are on duty? There has been some mistake. I gave orders that you were to have a night’s sleep. There has been a mistake, but never mind, sleep here, if you like; God knows you have reason to be tired, and that there are three times men enough to guard a handful of miserables.’
“‘Thank you, Señor Capitan,’ he answered; and as he spoke, the violent coughing broke out again from some dark recess.
“‘There is a poor wretch who seems very ill,’ said I, conversationally. ‘Is it one of the garrison?’
“‘It must be one of the political prisoners, Señor Capitan,’ replied the soldier. ‘They are all confined in the casemates yonder.’
“‘Poor wretch!’ said I, and, nodding to the soldier, strolled on toward the ramparts. Before I had gone far I was halted by another sentry. I peered at him through the murk.
“‘Are you one of the new men?’ I demanded.