The gaol-governor, making humble obeisance, silently awaited the examination, as a witness in the box who fears he may himself soon stand in the dock.
“To begin: why did you send those four prisoners out with the chain-gang?”
“By order of Colonel Santander, Sire. He said it was your Excellency’s wish.”
“Humph! Well, that’s comprehensible. And so far you’re excusable. But how came it you didn’t see to their being better guarded?”
“Sire, I placed them in charge of the chief turnkey—a man named Dominguez—whom I had found most trustworthy on other occasions. To-day being exceptional, on account of the ceremonies, he was pressed to take drink, and, I’m sorry to say, got well-nigh drunk. That will explain his neglect of duty.”
“It seems there were two ladies in the carriage. You know who they were, I suppose?”
“By inquiry I have ascertained, your Excellency. One was the Countess Almonté the other Don Luisa Valverde, as your Excellency will know, the daughter of him to whom the equipage belonged.”
“Yes, yes. I know all that. I have been told the carriage made stop directly opposite to where these men were at work. Was that so?”
“It was, Sire.”
“And have you heard how the stoppage came about?”