And then, feeling that I had said enough, and fearing that I might say more, I turned on my heel, lighted a cigar, and, while I paced to and fro in the patio, seriously considered my position, which, as I clearly perceived, was beginning to be rather precarious.
As likely as not the innkeeper would denounce me, and then it would, of course, be very absurd, for I was utterly ignorant, and Zamorra, a Royalist to the bone, must have been equally ignorant that his friend Ulloa had any hand in the rebellion. The mere fact of carrying a harmless letter of introduction from a well-known loyalist to a friend whom he believed to be still a loyalist, could surely not be construed as an offense. At any rate it ought not to be. But when I recalled all I had heard from Moreña, and the stories told me but an hour before by Carera, I thought it extremely probable that it would be, and bitterly regretted that I had not mentioned to the latter Ulloa’s name. He would have put me on my guard, and I should not have so fatally committed myself with the posadero.
But regrets are useless and worse. They waste time and weaken resolve. The question of the moment was, What should I do? How avoid the danger which I felt sure was impending? There seemed only one way—immediate flight. I would go to Carera, tell him all that had happened, and ask him to arrange for my departure from Caracas that very night. I could steal away unseen when all was quiet.
“At once,” I said to myself—“at once. If I exaggerate, if the danger be not so pressing as I fear, he is just the man to tell me; but, first of all, I will go into my room and destroy this confounded letter. The posadero did not see it. All that he can say is—”
“In the king’s name!” exclaimed a rough voice behind me; and a heavy hand was laid on my arm.
Turning sharply round, I found myself confronted by an officer of police and four alguazils, all armed to the teeth.
“I arrest you in the king’s name,” repeated the officer.
“On what charge?” I asked.
“Treason. Giving aid and comfort to the king’s enemies, and acting as a medium of communication between rebels against his authority.”
“Very well; I am ready to accompany you,” I said, seeing that, for the moment at least, resistance and escape were equally out of the question; “but the charge is false.”