“Colonel Onate, I have sent for you at the request of Governor Megales to set his mind at rest on a disturbing point. His health is failing and he considers the advisability of retiring from the active cares of state. I have assured him that you, among others, would, under such circumstances, be in a friendly relation to the next administration. Am I correct in so assuring him?” Megales pierced him with his beady eyes. “In other words, Colonel Onate, are you one of the traitors involved in this rebellion?” “I prefer the word patriot, señor,” returned Onate, flushing. “Indeed I have no doubt you do. I am answered,” he exclaimed scornfully. “And what is the price of patriotism these days, colonel?” “Sir!” The colonel laid his hand on his sword. “I was merely curious to know what position you would hold under the new administration.” O’Halloran choked a laugh, for by chance the governor had hit the nail on the head. Onate was to be Secretary of State under Valdez, and this was the bait that had been dangled temptingly under his nose to induce a desertion of Megales. “If you mean to reflect upon my honor I can assure you that my conscience is clear,” answered Onate blackly. “Indeed, colonel, I do not doubt it. I have always admired your conscience and its adaptability.” The governor turned to O’Halloran. “I am satisfied, Senior Dictator. If you will permit me—” He walked to his desk, unlocked a drawer, and drew forth a parchment, which he tossed across to the Irishman. “It is my commission as governor. Allow me to place it in your hands and put myself at the service of the new administration.” “If you will kindly write notes, I will send a messenger to General Carlo and another to Colonel Gabilonda requesting their attendance. I think affairs may be quickly arranged.” “You are irresistible, señor. I hasten to obey.” Megales sat down and wrote two notes, which he turned over to O’Halloran. The latter read them, saw them officially sealed, and dispatched them to their destinations. When Gabilonda was announced, General Carlo followed almost at his heels. The latter glanced in surprise at O’Halloran. “Where did you catch him, excellency?” he asked. “I did not catch him. He has caught me, and, incidentally, you, general,” answered the sardonic Megales. “In short, general,” laughed the big Irishman, “the game is up.” “But the army—You haven’t surrendered without a fight?” “That is precisely what I have done. Cast your eye over that paper, general, and then tell me of what use the army would be to us. Half the officers are with the enemy, among them the patriotic Colonel Onate, whom you see present. A resistance would be futile, and would only result in useless bloodshed.” “I don’t believe it,” returned Carlo bluntly. “Seeing is believing, general,” returned O’Halloran, and he gave a little nod to Onate. The colonel left the room, and two or three minutes later a bell began to toll. “What does that mean?” asked Carlo.