"That same evening, in the little inn-parlor at Hernani that served as headquarters, old Garrido beheld the tall young man with whom he had conversed six days before on the Place de l'Ayuntamiento brought in under guard of some soldiers.
"The general was beside himself, he was ill, was threatened with congestion of the brain; since the disaster of the previous night he had been talking of shooting himself. He received Araquil as he would have received a dog.
"'What do you want here, fellow? What assurance have I that you did not put those miserable Carlists on their guard?'
"'You ask me what I want, general? I want to talk to you—to you, alone! Yes, alone!'
"And the lad spoke in 'such a distinct tone that old Garrido saw that he had something of importance to say and signed to his officers to leave them, the man and him.
"'Well! what is it?' he asked, when Juan's request had been complied with and they were alone.
"Araquil waited a moment before speaking, as if the saliva had retreated from his mouth and left it parched and dry; then all at once he blurted out:
"'You told me, general, that Zucarraga's life was worth a fortune?' And as Garrido made no answer: 'I am here to claim that fortune; I have earned it!'
"The general looked at him, knitting his eyebrows, wondering if he could have heard aright, and Araquil stood there, facing him, pale as death.
"'What do you mean? How, earned it?' said Garrido after a moment's silence. 'I do not understand you.'
