“Ah, Condesa! You may be clever—you are. But if I find you’ve had a hand in this, and it can be proved to the world, never was a woman in a man’s power more than you’ll be in mine. Title, riches, family influence, all will be powerless to shield you. In the cell of a prison where I may yet have the pleasure of paying you a visit, you won’t be either so proud or so scornful as you’ve shown yourself in a palace this same day. Veremos—we shall see.”
“Don Pedro Arias.”
It was an aide-de-camp announcing the Governor of the Acordada.
“Conduct him in.”
Without delay the prison official was ushered into the presence, looking very sad and cowed-like. Nor did the reception accorded him have a restoring influence; instead, the reverse.
“What’s all this I hear?” thundered out the disposer of punishments and of places; “you’ve been letting your prisoners bolt from you in whole batches. I suppose by this time the Acordada will be empty.”
“Excellentissimo! I am very sorry to say that four of them—”
“Yes; and of the four, two of them you had orders to guard most strictly—rigorously.”
“I admit it, Sire, but—”
“Sirrah! you needn’t waste words excusing yourself. Your conduct shall be inquired into by-and-by. What I want now is to know the circumstances—the exact particulars of this strange affair. So answer the questions I put to you without concealment or prevarication.”