given himself so much trouble to make so unpleasantly suggestive a
recommendation? A priest, forsooth! A file and a cord would be much more
to the purpose.... But might not the words mean more than appeared? Could
it be that Carera desired to give me a friendly hint to prepare for the
worst?... Or was it possible that the ghostly man would bring me a further
message and help me in some way to escape? At any rate, it was a more
encouraging theory than the other, and I resolved to act on it. If the
priest did me no good, he could, at least, do me no harm.

After tearing up the bit of paper and chewing the fragments, I returned to
my hammock and lay awake--sleep being now out of the question--until the
turnkey brought me a cup of chocolate, of which, with the remains of the
loaf, I made my first breakfast. About the middle of the day he brought me
something more substantial. On both occasions I pressed him with questions
as to when I was to be examined, and what they were going to do with me,
to all of which he answered "_No se_" ("I don't know"), and, probably
enough, he told the truth. However, I was not kept long in suspense. Later
on in the afternoon the door opened for the third time, and the officer
who had arrested me, followed by his alguazils, appeared at the threshold
and announced that he had been ordered to escort me to the tribunal.

We went in the same order as before; and a walk of less than fifteen
minutes brought us to another tumble-down building, which appeared to have
been once a court-house. Only the lower rooms were habitable, and at a
door, on either side of which stood a sentry, my conductor respectfully
knocked.

"_Adelante!_" said a rough voice; and we entered accordingly.

Before a long table at the upper end of a large, barely-furnished room,