“Ah,” Mareno’s voice had a glad ring, “he knows nothing. Juarez alone knew of my support, and he is dead; he was the agent in all my transactions.” “Very well; I shall deliver this letter in person at the palace this evening,” Lazar said, “and then we must put this man on board the steamer. I don’t believe he will live to reach Mexico.” Captain Garcia knew nothing of the letter, but from the trend of the conversation between the two conspirators he saw that the much trusted Mareno had done something which Lazar was endeavoring to cover up for him. He dared not ask O’Neil; even a whisper might be heard. “What is the name of the steamer?” Lazar added. “It is now after midnight. At what time will she sail?” “It is the ‘Mercedes’; one of our own ships,” Mareno answered; “she is scheduled to sail at daylight and her first port will be Vera Cruz, Mexico; her captain need know nothing except that the sick man is to be landed there.” “Can’t she sail as soon as we get this man on board?” Lazar asked eagerly. “I shall breathe freer when he is on the high seas. My enemies have resources and the sooner we get this man away the less danger there is for me. The court meets at eight o’clock, and without this witness my friend Midshipman Perry must be convicted.” [Illustration: _THE DOOR OF THE ROOM OPENED SUDDENLY_] “That can be easily arranged,” Mareno agreed at once. “She has already cleared the custom-house and can sail whenever I give the word.” O’Neil glanced at Captain Garcia’s face. The light through the transom of the room in which the conspirators were shone dimly on his strong face. O’Neil was fairly startled at its expression. He feared that upon hearing the course which his enemy would pursue, Garcia might act precipitately, and spoil the plan. “Come,” the sailor whispered, grasping the captain’s arm, “we must go.” But the naval officer could not be moved. He reached in his pocket and drew out a silver-mounted revolver, and took a step forward toward the door of the room. “You’ll spoil everything,” O’Neil whispered hoarsely. The door of the room opened suddenly and a flood of light shone out in the hallway. Lazar stood on the threshold, his face turned backward over his shoulder; he was talking to Mareno behind him. “Craig is up-stairs, is he not? I shall get him and join you immediately,” he said. O’Neil was terribly anxious. If their presence were discovered, the conspirators would change their plans. The light seemed to fall directly upon himself and Captain Garcia. How could Lazar fail to see them?