“No, sir.”
“But, what shall I say to Rojas?”
“That he may order me shot.”
“Very well,” he said and withdrew, annoyed.
Three copies were signed, one for each general, and when the act was concluded my room was filled with leaders and officers, who desired to know my opinion about that absurd agreement. I said to them all that it was unworthy and that I would not sign it.
Some said that there ought to be an uprising, others desired to fly, though they saw this pact, like an anathema, which would follow them everywhere, a sentence of death. Death and dishonor if they fulfilled it; death and dishonor if they did not. There were some who wept with rage. I attempted to console them as well as I could and gradually they departed until, finally, only Crispin Medina and Juan Valadéz were with me.
“Did you sign?” I asked them.
“Unfortunately yes, but only on one of the copies.”
“On which?”
“On that of Don Julio.”