The next second he was grappling with someone. But his unknown captive did not resist. "There, senor, loosen your fingers. I am not escaping. I am returning to my cell. But I had to make the other two think that I was with them." The voice was Maximilian's. "Hark! Ah, poor souls, they have failed!" The prince spoke truly. A fierce "Alto ahi!" sounded below. Then there were musket shots and the confusion of many scrambling feet. Murguia had routed out the church barracks. And when torches were brought, the soldiers discovered that they had hands on Miramon and Mejia. But the false sentinels were gone! In leaving the road clear they had used it themselves, already. "You fools!" suddenly a half crazed wail arose. "Fools, _he_ has escaped! He----" "Oh dry up, Murgie," said Driscoll, coming down the steps. "He's gone back to his room, I reckon." CHAPTER XXI THE TITLE OF NOBILITY "Hear, therefore, O ye kings, and understand." --_Wisdom of Solomon._ One more sunset, one more sunrise! And then?... Maximilian again confronted the ghostly enumeration. But this time his last day should be the day of a man's work, in simple-hearted humility. He no more searched the skies to find a supernal finger there. He let Destiny alone, and did his best instead. For a man's best is Destiny's peer. The fiery June sun was dying in its larger shell of bronze over the western sierras, and the self-same blue that vaults beautiful Tuscany was taking on its richer, darker hue, when a foreigner in the land, Din Driscoll, walked under the Alameda trees, his pipe cold in his mouth, he perplexed before his heavy spirits. For he no longer had war to distract, to engross. Maximilian's physician, an Austrian, found him in his reverie. Would the Herr Americano at once repair to His Highness attend? The senor's presence would a favor be esteemed, in reason that a witness was greatly necessitated.