The priest took the paper and looked at it with an air of puzzlement and surprise.
"I see red wax and paper," he said coldly. "What of that?"
"Do you not see, Señor Padre, a slight browning of the paper beneath, as though it had been scorched?"
The chaplain scrutinized the seal again. The other priests watched him in silence; Palafox kept his burning eyes fixed on Jack; and Tio Jorge stood with his lips parted as though wondering what deep mystery was concerned here.
"I do see a faint coloration," said Don Basilio at length; "a light tinge at the edge of the wax, becoming a little darker beneath the seal. What then?"
"This, Señor. The paper, I suggest, was scorched by the passage of a hot keen blade beneath the seal."
There was a painful silence. Then Tio Jorge cried, "Por Dios! that explains everything. It is all clear. The man that brought it is a villain, an afrancesado, Señores! And 'tis he who has sought to harm the brave English Señor here! Death to all traitors! Death to Don Miguel Priego!"
"Stay, stay!" said Padre Consolacion, his round face wearing a look of concern. "This is a terrible charge to bring against a reputable citizen of Saragossa."
"One of my own hussars," murmured Palafox.
"He was my pupil," continued the padre. "I have known him since he was an infant. I knew his father, an estimable man; he cannot be a traitor. If the despatch was opened, it must have been without his knowledge. Of that I am sure."