Weeks passed till it was the third week in December. One evening in that week Don Carlos Evaña mounted his horse and galloped out to the Quinta de Ponce. The next morning at dawn he was again in the saddle, galloping over the level plains southwards to the estancia of Don Francisco Viana, where he purposed passing the noon-tide heat, and thereafter in the cool of the evening pursuing his way without halting till he should reach his own estancia.
While Don Carlos Evaña so rested at midday, Don Roderigo Ponce de Leon sat conversing with the Viceroy in his private room at the fort. Marshal Liniers had sent for him, telling him that there was matter of great moment on which he wished to consult him. Don Roderigo sat with an open letter in his hand, which he had just been reading; his face was very thoughtful, he seemed to be anxiously debating within himself how he should answer the Viceroy, who was speaking rapidly and whose face showed evident marks of excitement and something of indignation.
"Do you know who he is, this Don Saturnino Rodriguez Peña?" asked the Viceroy.
"Perfectly. He is a brother of Don Nicolas," replied Don Roderigo. "He is the man who put that folly into the head of my son, of which I told you some months ago."
"But you have since told me that it remained there, and that nothing was done?"
"And so far as my son is concerned I know that nothing has been done."
"But she speaks most plainly of a conspiracy against me? I shall write to the Prince-regent and demand the arrest of this Don Saturnino."
"If there be any such conspiracy the publication of this letter, written to you by the Princess herself, would at once put an end to it."
"The Princess Carlota warns me of a conspiracy, so there must be something."
"It may be; I too have heard rumours, but take little note of them. Your appointment as Viceroy can only be legally annulled by the Junta of Seville, and, failing that, your great popularity secures your authority."