Putting his hand into his pocket, he drew out a letter and showed it to Evaña. The letter bore an English postmark, the address was in a bold hand which Evaña recognised at once. For a moment his firm step faltered, and a deadly pallor overspread his cheek, but it was for a moment only, the next he asked calmly:
"How did he escape?"
"He never sailed in the Petrel," replied Marcelino.
For a minute or two they walked on in silence, then Evaña spoke again.
"But you have not answered my question," he said. "Is not the day at hand? are we not already a free people?"
"Alas! it is too true. Spain has fallen," said Marcelino.
Again they walked on in silence; again Evaña was the first to speak.
"I have been idle," said he, "but the work has been done for me, while I have been asleep, dreaming. The day has arisen, the dreams of the night have passed from me."
Then seizing the hand of his friend he pressed it fiercely in his own, and turning from him strode rapidly away towards his own dwelling.
For two days Don Carlos Evaña shut his door to every visitor, on the third day he sallied forth and took his way to the house of Don Manuel Belgrano. He found Don Manuel in his study, and drawing a roll of paper from his pocket he handed it to him.