The hugging at an end, there was yet another toast to follow, the same which always wound up the festivals of the "Free Lances," whatever the occasion. Their leader, as often before, now again pronounced it-- "_Patria y Libertad_". And never before did it have more enthusiastic reception, the cheer that rang through the old convent, louder than any laughter of monks who may have ever made it their home. Ere it had ceased reverberating, the door of the Refectory was suddenly pushed open, and a man rushed into the room, as he entered, crying out-- "_Traicion_!" "Treason!" echoed fifty voices as one, all again starting to their feet, and turning faces towards the alarmist. The major-domo it was, who, as the other _mozos_, was half equipped for a journey. "What mean you, Gregorio?" demanded his master. "There's one can tell you better than I, Don Ruperto." "Who? Where is he?" "Outside, Senor. A messenger who has just come up--he's from San Augustin." "But how has he passed our sentry." "Ah! _capitano_; I'd rather he told you himself." Mysterious speech on the part of the major-domo, which heightened the apprehension of those hearing it. "Call him hither!" commanded Rivas. No calling was needed; the person spoken of being in the environ close by; and Gregorio, again opening the door, drew him inside. "The _cochero_!" mentally exclaimed Rivas, Kearney, and the Texan, soon as setting eyes on him. The _cochero_ it was, Jose, though they knew not his name, nor anything more of him than what they had learned in that note of the Condesa's, saying that he could be trusted, and their brief association with him afterwards--which gave them proof that he could. As he presented himself inside the room he seemed panting for breath, and really was. He had only just arrived up the steep climb, and exchanged hardly half a dozen words with the major-domo, who had met him at the outside entrance. Announced as a messenger, neither the Captain of the Free Lances nor Florence Kearney needed telling who sent him. A sweet intuition told them that. Rivas but asked-- "How have you found the way up here?" "_Por Dios_! Senor, I've been here before--many's the time. I was born among these mountains--am well acquainted with all the paths everywhere around." "But the sentry below. How did you get past him? You haven't the countersign!" "He wouldn't have heard it if I had, Senor. _Pobre_! he'll never hear countersign again--nor anything else." "Why? Explain yourself!" "_Esta muerto_! He lies at the bottom of the cliff, his body crushed--" "Who has done it? Who's betrayed us?" interrupted a volley of voices. "The hunchback, Zorillo," answered Jose, to the astonishment of all. For in the dialogue between the dwarf and Santander, he had heard enough to anticipate the ghastly spectacle awaiting him on his way up the mountain.