Returning, they had met by the front door, and entered the house together. Each having had orders to deliver his report, and without delay, was now acting in obedience to them.
Two and two they stood upon the azotea,—the men, hat in hand, stood in front of their respective mistresses; not so far apart, but that each mistress might have heard what the servant of the other said; for on their part there was no wish or reason for concealment.
“Señorita,” reported José, “the gentleman you sent me to inquire about is not in Tacubaya.”
Almost a cry came from Luisa Valverde’s lips, as with paled cheek, she said,—“You’ve not heard of him, then?” But the colour quickly returned at the answer,—“I have, Señorita; more, I have seen him.”
“Seen Don Florencio! Where? Speak, quick, José!”
“In the Acordada!”
“In the Acordada!” in still another voice—that of the Condesa speaking in a similar tone, as though it were an echo; for she, too, had just been told that her lover was in the same gaol.
“I saw him in a cell, my lady,” continued the Countess’s man, now taking precedence. “They had him coupled to another prisoner—a Tejano.”
“He was in one of the cells, Señorita,” spoke José, also continuing his report, “chained to a robber.”