In the tribunal, blows, cries, wails, and curses were heard. The alferez’s voice drowned all the others.
“Put him in the stocks! Put handcuffs on that fellow! Two shots for whoever moves! Sergeant, you will mount your guard! Let no one pass, not even God! Corporal, let no one sleep!”
Ibarra hastened his steps toward his house. His servants were uneasily awaiting him.
“Saddle the best horse and go to bed!” said he to them.
He entered his laboratory and hurriedly began to get his travelling bag ready. He opened an iron box, took out all the money which he found there and put it in a bag. He gathered his jewels together, took down a picture of Maria Clara which was hanging upon the wall, and, arming himself with a dirk and two revolvers, he turned to the cupboard where he had some tools.
At that instant, three blows, loud and strong, sounded on the door.
“Who’s there?” asked Ibarra, in a doleful voice.
“Open in the name of the King! Open the door at once, or we will knock it down!” replied an imperious Spanish voice.
Ibarra looked toward the window. His eyes flashed and he cocked his revolver. But changing his mind, he left the arms and went to open the door at the same moment that the servants came up.
Three Guards seized him instantly.