was as anxious as his two companions. He was a kind-hearted man, and had gone so far into the adventure that he could no longer withdraw without loss of self-esteem. Moreover, he was so compromised, administratively speaking, that, all things taken into consideration, he could not do better than stand by the Marquis to the end. Whatever the result, he was sure that Don Christobal would not let him starve.
Midnight came, and the twelve strokes rang out from the church tower.
The theater had long since given up its last enthusiasts, and the square was now more or less deserted. All the paper lanterns had gone out, but the night was a clear one, and they could easily distinguish the shadows moving homewards under the arcades. None of them, though, came toward the inn. A quarter past twelve. Not one of the three men in the room dared say a word!
At half-past twelve, still nothing! The Marquis heaved a strangled sigh. At a quarter to one, Dick went over to the little lamp smoking on the table, took out his revolver, and opened it to see that it was loaded and working properly.
"Huascar has fooled us like children," he said, vainly striving to control his voice. "He came here in broad daylight, with the knowledge of
