Suddenly the idea came to him: could Miguel have visited the man because he was an afrancesado? The suggestion was like the letting out of a flood. Jack recalled the suspicious entry of Miguel and his man into Saragossa; the strange tale about an overpowered sentry; the curious reappearance of a sentinel in the French trenches almost immediately afterwards. Had Miguel got in, not in spite of the French, but with their connivance? His rapid journey across country from Seville: how could that be accounted for unless he had been helped through the districts in French occupation, and provided with relays of post-horses at every stage? The inevitable conclusion was that Miguel was himself an afrancesado, and had come into the city on some traitorous errand. Knowing that the guerrillero was of the same kidney, he had visited him for some purpose of his own. A quarrel had arisen; during the struggle one of his buckles had been wrenched off, and it lay unnoticed on the floor. It was improbable that Miguel himself had dealt Quintanar the fatal blow; but, remembering Perez, the one-eyed man, Jack was in little doubt where to look for the assassin. There was only one thing wanted to complete his assurance of Miguel’s treachery. Miguel had certainly brought to Palafox a despatch from the Supreme Junta at Seville. If he were a true Spaniard, and had really gained admittance to the city by a hazardous feat of arms, the despatch must have been intact when Palafox received it. On the other hand, if Miguel was a spy, in the pay of the French, it was little likely that they would have allowed a despatch to pass through their lines without mastering its contents. In that case they must have found means to open and read it, without leaving anything to arouse suspicion in the mind of Palafox when he received it. How was that possible? Palafox would certainly have remarked any sign of tampering with the seal; the despatch could not have been opened without tampering with the seal, and that— Stay! Jack vaguely remembered having read somewhere that a seal could be removed by dexterously slipping a thin hot blade between it and the paper. Had that been done with Miguel’s despatch? The question had no sooner formed itself in Jack’s mind than conviction flashed upon him; he felt absolutely sure that the man he had always so much disliked on personal grounds was a renegade and a traitor.