"Very well," said Molara at last, "I shall require you to accompany me to-night on a mission of importance. I will take an aide-de-camp as well."
"Yes," said the Secretary; "witnesses are necessary."
"I shall be armed."
"That is desirable, but only as a threat, only as a threat," said the Secretary earnestly. "He is too strong for violence; the people would be up in a moment."
"I know that," curtly replied the President, and then with savage bitterness he added: "but for that there would be no difficulty."
"None whatever," said Miguel, and went on writing.
Molara rose and went in search of Lucile, choking down the disgust and repugnance he felt. He was determined now; it might just make the difference to him in the struggle for power, and besides, it contained the element of revenge. He would like to see the proud Savrola grovel and beg for mercy at his feet. All mere politicians, he said to himself, were physical cowards; the fear of death would paralyse his rival.
Lucile was still in her sitting-room when her husband entered. She met him with an anxious look. "What has happened, Antonio?"
"We have been invaded, dearest, by a large force of revolutionaries. The garrison of Turga have deserted to the enemy, and killed their officers. The end is now in sight."
"It is terrible," she said.