were no
windows, but it was well lighted by candles, and the lanterns carried
by Vicenti and the turnkey threw a full light into each corner. They
saw a cot, a table, a chair, a number of shelves loaded to the bending
point with books and, at one end of the cell, an immense archway. This
archway had been blocked with stone, roughly hewn and held together by
cement. At the first glance, it was obvious that this was the other
entrance to the tunnel. As he beheld its solid front, the heart of
each of the young men sank in dismay.

General Rojas had risen, and stood shading his eyes from the
unaccustomed light of the lanterns.

"I have taken the liberty of intruding upon you," Vicenti was saying,
"because these two gentlemen are interested in the history of the
fortress."

General Rojas bowed gravely, and with a deprecatory gesture, glanced
at the turnkey, as though to explain why he did not address them.

"This part of the fortress," Vicenti began hurriedly, "is very old. It
was built in the sixteenth century, and was, I think, originally the
messroom. It is now used only for the most important political
prisoners."

For an instant there was an awkward silence, and then Roddy broke it
with a laugh, short and contemptuous.

"You mean traitors," he sneered.

General Rojas straightened as suddenly as though Roddy had struck at
him. The young doctor was no less moved. He turned on the American
with an exclamation of indignation.

"You forget yourself, sir!" he said.

Though Peter had been warned that Roddy might try by insulting Rojas
to make capital for himself, his insolence to a helpless old man was
unpardonable. He felt his cheeks burn with mortification. The turnkey
alone showed his pleasure, and grinned appreciatively. Roddy himself
was entirely unashamed.

"I have no sympathy for such men!" he continued defiantly. "A murderer
takes only human life; a traitor would take the life of his country.
In the States," he cried hotly, "we make short work with traitors. We
hang them!"

He wheeled furiously on Peter, as though Peter had contradicted him.

"I say we do," he exclaimed. "It's in the Constitution. It's the law.
You've read it yourself. It's page fifty-four, paragraph four, of the
Constitution of the United States. 'Punishment for Traitors.' Page
fifty-four, paragraph four."

Apparently with sudden remorse at his impetuosity, he turned to the
doctor.

"I beg your pardon," he exclaimed. "I _did_ forg