"Baron, I wish to speak to you."
"It is useless," began Lancken.
The Marquis Villalobar pleads.
But the old Spanish pride had been mounting in the Marquis, and he literally dragged the tall von der Lancken into a little room near by, and then voices were heard in sharp discussion, and even through the partition the voice of Villalobar:
"It is idiotic, this thing you are going to do; you will have another Louvain."
A few moments later they came back, Villalobar in silent rage, Lancken very red. And, as de Leval said, without another word, dumb, in consternation, filled with an immense despair, they came away.
The messengers withdraw.
I heard the report, and they withdrew. A little while and I heard the street door open. The women who had waited all that night went out into the rain.
The rain had ceased and the air was soft and warm the next morning; the sunlight shone through an autumn haze. But over the city the horror of the dreadful deed hung like a pall.
Other prisoners condemned.