By the light of the lantern two forms could again be seen, one following the other cautiously. A forcible “Quien vive?” stops them both. The first one replied “España,” in a trembling voice.
The two soldiers drag him along and bring him up to the light, to recognize him. It was Lucas, but the soldiers were in doubt and questioned each other with a glance.
“The alferez said nothing about his having a scar,” said the Visayan in a low voice. “Where are you going?”
“To order a mass for to-morrow.”
“Have you not seen Elias?”
“I do not know him, señor,” replied Lucas.
“You dunce! I am not asking if you know him. Nor do we know him. I am asking you if you have seen him.”
“No, señor.”
“Listen closely. I will give you his description. Stature, at times tall, at times regular; skin and eyes, black; all the others are regular,” said the Visayan. “Do you know him now?”
“No, señor,” replied Lucas, frightened.