“The Senhor Conde d’Almeida,” said one, politely bowing.
“The same,” answered Luis.
“You will please step this way, senhor, by the order of the King,” returned the officer, opening a door on one side, through which Luis was obliged to pass, and which was closed directly after them. His attendants then conducted him down a long passage, which appeared truly gloomy after the blaze of light he had quitted, and to his inquiries as to where they were going, they held an ominous silence. He could not but feel alarmed at the extraordinary circumstance, though he had but short time for reflection, before he reached the opposite side of the palace, when his former conductors delivered him into the custody of two others, who seemed prepared to expect him.
“What is the meaning of this, senhores?” he asked.
“You are our prisoner, Senhor Conde, by order of the King,” answered one of his new guards. “Please to accompany us, a carriage awaits you.”
The men placing themselves one on each side of him, so that escape was impossible, led him down a flight of steps to a small door, on the outside of which more soldiers were stationed, and where a coach was in waiting. The soldiers then formed round the coach, keeping all spectators at a distance, while his guards desired him to enter it, seating themselves, with drawn weapons, opposite to him. The coach then drove quickly away, while another appeared to take its place.
“Ah!” thought Luis, “I am, alas! not the only wretch who will this night be deprived of liberty.”
He was anxious to learn of his attendants whither they were conducting him, but the only answer he could draw from them was far from satisfactory.
“Silence, senhor,” said one. “Our orders are to treat you with every respect but, if you attempt to speak, or to cry out for assistance, we are to run our swords into your body.”
After this, he deemed it the more prudent plan to keep silence, lest they might think it necessary to obey their orders to the letter.