“Whom do you wish to see, señors?” he asked.
“We are friends of Señor Mareno, who is up-stairs, is he not? We shall go up,” O’Neil answered quickly in a low voice.
The man seemed to hold no suspicions; he was glad to get back to his interrupted nap.
“Very well, señors,” he answered.
The two men cautiously walked up the narrow stairs. Reaching the next floor, they stopped, breathless, to listen.
A sound of voices came from a room in the front of the house.
Captain Garcia was worried. He did not relish his mission; there was too much at stake for him if Mareno discovered that they had forced an entrance into his house. In these countries it is but a step to a prison cell and another to the execution wall where many men are put to death daily during these revolutions. He was anxious to retrace his steps, but O’Neil held him firmly by the arm.
The voices of Mareno and Lazar sounded distinctly; they were talking in loud natural tones, so sure were they that they were alone in this lonely house.
“I have changed the letter, Señor Mareno,” Lazar was saying; “here it is: as it reads now your name does not appear and Midshipman Perry’s name has been substituted. But you must make sure that the minister and the president never meet, for they might discover the change in the letter.”
“I have arranged that,” answered Mareno. “As soon as the fleet leaves, which will be to-morrow, the president will telegraph to Washington for the minister’s recall, giving the reason that he is unsatisfactory to the government.”