“Treason!” echoed fifty voices as one, all again starting to their feet, and turning faces towards the alarmist. The major-domo it was, who, as the other mozos, was half equipped for a journey.
“What mean you, Gregorio?” demanded his master.
“There’s one can tell you better than I, Don Ruperto.”
“Who? Where is he?”
“Outside, Señor. A messenger who has just come up—he’s from San Augustin.”
“But how has he passed our sentry.”
“Ah! capitano; I’d rather he told you himself.”
Mysterious speech on the part of the major-domo, which heightened the apprehension of those hearing it. “Call him hither!” commanded Rivas.
No calling was needed; the person spoken of being in the environ close by; and Gregorio, again opening the door, drew him inside.
“The cochero!” mentally exclaimed Rivas, Kearney, and the Texan, soon as setting eyes on him.