he lives of
Herrera and the other prisoners in great jeopardy."

"I am sorry," said Baltasar, in a tone which belied his professed
concern, "that my arrival should interfere with your plans, and endanger
the life of your friend."

"I can scarcely believe in your regrets, cousin," replied the Count, "or
that you will grieve for the death of one whom you regard as rival. But
again I tell you that Herrera can never be the husband of my daughter;
and although you have the impression that he is now one of the chief
obstacles to your success with Rita, time cannot fail to obliterate her
childish attachment. Be sure that you will do more towards winning her
favour by acting generously in the present circumstances, than if you
were to take this opportunity of compassing Herrera's death."

"I do not understand you, Count," said Baltasar. "You talk as if the
young man's life or death were in my hands. I bring intelligence which
it is my duty to convey to the general as speedily as possible, and I am
no way responsible for the consequences. I cannot believe that you would
have me forget my duty, and suppress news of this importance."

"Certainly not," answered the Count; "but much depends on the way in
which such things are told. Moreover, the general talked yesterday of
calling a council of war, to deliberate and decide on the fate of these
prisoners. Should he do so, you will be a member of it; and if you wish
to serve me, you will give your vote on the side of mercy."

What reply Don Baltasar would have made to this request, must remain
unknown; for, before he had time to speak, the conversation was
interrupted by a knock at the door of the apartment, and one of
Zumalacarregui's aides-de-camp entered the room.

"The general has returned from his ride, Major Villabuena," said the
officer; "he has heard of your arrival, and is impatient to see you."

"I am ready to accompany you to him," said Baltasar, by no means sorry
to break off his dialogue with the Count.

"General Zumalacarregui also requests your presence, Senor Conde," said
the aide-de-camp.

"I will shortly wait upon him," replied Villabuena.

The two officers left the house, and the Count re-entered his sleeping
apartment to complete his toilet.

On reaching Zumalacarregui's quarters, Major Villabuena found the
Carlist chief seated at a table, upon which were writing-materials, two
or three maps, and some open letters. Several aides-de-camp, superior
offic