"But then," cried the young man, beside himself, now that the terrors of the situation dawned upon his understanding, "he must be a traitor! He is going to deliver up the Emperor!"
"Are you only now finding this out?" sadly queried the old soldier.
Lieutenant Haus once more turned to the strange officer. "Then," he asked, "it is Colonel Lopez who introduced you here?"
"Certainly," he replied. And, smiling: "But, I repeat it, you need have no fear. We are of the regular army. No harm will come to you."
He looked toward La Cruz, the improvised stronghold where the Emperor had his headquarters, hoping to see some sign of a struggle—the flash of a musket, the noise of resistance, a movement, a signal. But no. The dark mass of the convent building detached itself with imposing grandeur against the night sky, and silence reigned everywhere.
He was a prisoner. The Juarists were in Queretaro, and treason even then was stealthily completing its loathsome task of destruction without his being able to give one word of warning to its victims.
The mysterious officer, guessing his thoughts, said quietly: "The whole convent is already in our power. Your emperor must be taken even now."
At this moment Captain Gontron, a Frenchman, appeared upon the scene, seemingly free, but in a towering rage.
"I wish," he said, "that you, who can speak Spanish better than I, would ask these black devils who have just come to relieve me at the pantheon why my sarape and my sword have disappeared. I believe they have stolen them. Anyhow, who are these filibusters that Colonel Lopez has brought here? If my sword does not turn up in five minutes, I will smash in the face of their rascally commander, who is anything but civil."
The captain spoke in French, fiercely twisting his mustache. At any other time the humorous side of the situation must have struck the lieutenant, but just then he felt little inclination for mirth. He thereupon explained to the captain that they were prisoners, and that Colonel Lopez had introduced the enemy into the place.