CHAPTER XIII
DOM PEDRO DE ALCANTARA
I held the candle steadily and stared at my captor. He was dressed in the uniform of an officer of the royal guards—the body commanded by Fonseca. At his back were two others, silent but alert.
“You are here in the service of General da Fonseca?” I asked, with assumed composure.
“In the Emperor’s service, senhor,” answered the officer, quietly.
“But the general—”
“The general is unaware of our mission. I have my orders from his Majesty in person.”
He smiled somewhat unpleasantly as he made this statement, and for the first time I realized that my arrest might prove a great misfortune.
“Pardon me if I appear discourteous,” he continued, and made a sign to his men.
One took the candle from my hand and the other snapped a pair of hand-cuffs over my wrists.
I had no spirit to resist. The surprise had been so complete that it well-nigh benumbed my faculties. I heard the officer’s voice imploring me in polite tones to follow, and then my captors extinguished the candle and marched me away through a succession of black passages until we had reached an upper room at the back of the house.