“Of the palace?”
“Go in there.”
“Into the palace?”
“Of course. Look neither right nor left; cross the first court to the great portal. There await me. Quick, quick—they come!” And he pushed him away.
Not without doubt and disquietude did Federico obey the orders of the old man, who displayed, in this conjuncture, a promptitude and decision rare at his age. But the student had no alternative. Wrapped in Regato’s cloak, and feigning a feeble gait, he passed slowly and unquestioned before the soldiers of the royal guard. This impunity in a palace where the strictest watch and ward were usually kept, was an enigma to Federico; and he was still more puzzled, when, whilst waiting at the portal, several persons, shrouded like himself in dark cloaks, passed before him, greeting him as they went with a muttered “buenas noches” and disappeared in the corridors of the palace. At last came Geronimo. He had provided himself in the interval with another cloak. His appearance was an immense relief to the student.
“Are they gone?” said Federico. “May I venture out?”
“Thank the saints that you are here!” replied Geronimo. “And now, tell me what has happened.”
Federico told his adventures; and old Regato listened to the narrative with marks of the strongest interest. When he heard what the Count had said of him and of his probable fate, he laughed heartily. “Bah!” said he; “threatened men live long. I have had hotter broth cooked for me, and cooled it with my breath. I hope to die in my bed like a good Christian; and as for my chance of a rope, I would not change with his Excellency. The infernal schemer! I’ll pay him off now. Madre de todas gracias! had we but the list of the conspirators, what a blow might be struck!”
“The list!” repeated Federico. “Stay, let me remember!” and, plunging his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a torn paper. “When I threw the man down, this remained sticking between my waistcoat and neckcloth, where he had grappled me. I noticed it when I got outside, and thrust it into my pocket.”