General Rojas bowed gravely, and with a deprecatory gesture, glanced at the turnkey, as though to explain why he did not address them.
“This part of the fortress,” Vicenti began hurriedly, “is very old. It was built in the sixteenth century, and was, I think, originally the messroom. It is now used only for the most important political prisoners.”
For an instant there was an awkward silence, and then Roddy broke it with a laugh, short and contemptuous.
“You mean traitors,” he sneered.
General Rojas straightened as suddenly as though Roddy had struck at him. The young doctor was no less moved. He turned on the American with an exclamation of indignation.
“You forget yourself, sir!” he said.
Though Peter had been warned that Roddy might try by insulting Rojas to make capital for himself, his insolence to a helpless old man was unpardonable. He felt his cheeks burn with mortification. The turnkey alone showed his pleasure, and grinned appreciatively. Roddy himself was entirely unashamed.
“I have no sympathy for such men!” he continued defiantly. “A murderer takes only human life; a traitor would take the life of his country. In the States,” he cried hotly, “we make short work with traitors. We hang them!”
He wheeled furiously on Peter, as though Peter had contradicted him.
“I say we do,” he exclaimed. “It’s in the Constitution. It’s the law. You’ve read it yourself. It’s page fifty-four, paragraph four, of the Constitution of the United States. ‘Punishment for Traitors.’ Page fifty-four, paragraph four.”