But whatever may be the verdict of moralists on our device, events proved its wisdom. The President had no cause to suspect a trap; therefore, like a sensible man, he chose to spend the evening with the signorina rather than with his gallant officers. With equally good taste, he elected to spend it _tête-à-tête_ with her, when she gave him the opportunity. In our subsequent conversations, the signorina was not communicative as to how the early hours of the evening passed. She preferred to begin her narrative from the point when their solitude was interrupted. As I rely on her account and that of the colonel for this part of my story, I am compelled to make my start from the same moment. It appears that at a few minutes past eleven o'clock, when the President was peacefully smoking a cigar and listening to the conversation of his fair guest (whom he had galvanized into an affected liveliness by alarming remarks on her apparent preoccupation), there fell upon his ear the sound of a loud knocking at the door. Dinner had been served in a small room at the back of the house, and the President could not command a view of the knocker without going out on to the veranda, which ran all round the house, and walking round to the front. When the knock was heard, the signorina started up. "Don't disturb yourself, pray," said his Excellency, politely. "I gave special instructions that I was visible to no one this evening. But I was wondering whether it could be Johnny Carr. I want to speak to him for a moment, and I'll just go round outside and see if it is." As he spoke, a discreet tap was heard at the door. "Yes?" said the President. "Mr. Carr is at the door and particularly wants to see your Excellency. An urgent matter, he says." "Tell him I'll come round and speak to him from the veranda," replied the President. He turned to the window, and threw it open to step out. Let me tell what followed in the signorina's words. "Just then we heard a sound of a number of horses galloping up. The President stopped and said: "'Hallo! what's up?' "Then there was a shout and a volley of shots, and I heard the colonel's voice cry: "'Down with your arms; down, I say, or you're dead men.' "The President stepped quickly across the room to his escritoire, took up his revolver, went back to the window, passed through it, and without a word disappeared. I could not hear even the sound of his foot on the veranda. "I heard one more shot--then a rush of men to the door, and the colonel burst in, with sword and revolver in his hands, and followed by ten or a dozen men. "I ran to him, terrified, and cried: "'Oh, is anyone hurt?' "He took no notice, but asked hastily: "'Where is he?' "I pointed to the veranda, and gasped: "'He went out there.' Then I turned to one of the men and said again: "'Is anyone hurt?' "'Only Mr. Carr,' he replied. 'The rest of 'em were a precious sight too careful of themselves.' "'And is he killed?'