"A slip, senor," said Machado, quailing. "Bolivar was last night's pa.s.sword: to-night's is Libertad."

"Make no more slips. Now go to your table."

On the table, close to the instrument, lay a number of telegram forms plundered from the railway, and a pencil. Pointing to these, Will said--

"Write what I say. 'Release prisoners: will send----' Stop there, and add, 'Message interrupted.'"

Machado wrote the words. His fingers trembled so violently that the strokes were like those of an old man. Then Will, telling Azito to stand over Machado with his knife and to kill him if he moved, he turned the handle at the side of the instrument that switched off the current, and worked the operating handle for half-a-minute. The clicks could be distinctly heard in the patio, but the current being switched off, no effect was produced at the other end of the wire.

Giving the telegraph form to Machado, he said--

"Where does the General sleep?"

"In a room on the other side of the patio, near the door."

"The man outside the door is an orderly?"

"Yes, senor."

"You will take this slip and hand it to the orderly. Say you must hurry back, and return here."

Will thought he detected a gleam of relief and hope in the man's eyes.

But if Machado fancied he saw a chance of escape, he was disappointed by the next words.

"I shall stand near this door, with my revolver. It has six chambers.

Beware how you hurry or stumble. If you delay one instant longer than is required to repeat what I have said----"

He looked significantly into Machado's eyes. The man opened the door and went along the patio. Once he half turned, as if to see whether he was watched, but thought better of it and went on: it was nervous work, walking with a revolver pointed at his back. He reached the door, handed the slip to the orderly, said a few words, and returned at once.

Will saw the orderly knock at the General's door, and just as Machado came into the room, the General called to the man to enter.

Will closed the door. There was no time to be lost if the effect of the message was what he hoped it would be. The clock said twenty minutes to twelve.

"Sit in your chair," he said to Machado, "and occupy yourself with your instrument. Make believe that you are sending a message and awaiting the answer."

Machado sat as directed, with his back to the door. Then Will took Azito's knife and cut down the cord that drew the jalousies across the window.

"Tie his legs to the chair," he said to the Indian, adding to Machado: "You will suffer no harm if you do not resist. Work the instrument."

Will was now in a fever of uncertainty and apprehension. Would the fish rise to the bait? He knew the cupidity of the Liberator. If he was the man Will believed him to be, he would not wait to receive the completed message in writing, but would come across the patio to be at hand when the instrument spelled out the words promising the addition of 60,000 pesos to his chest. There was one thing to fear: that he would not come alone. He might waken his lieutenants on the way; then the game would be up. But Will reflected that a refusal had already come from Bolivar.

Probably neither General Carabano nor any of his officers expected a favourable reply, otherwise they would not all have gone to bed.

Machado had been left on the chance of the Government relenting, and he had done his duty, the General would think.

For a few moments there was no sign. Will began to fear that the trap would not work. He said a few words to Azito, who tore a long strip from the bottom of the curtain and rolled it up. The instrument clicked on, Machado never turning his head, but looking out of the corners of his eyes. At last there was a footfall along the patio. Will slipped behind the door. Immediately afterwards it was burst open.

"Well, what do they say?"

General Carabano took two strides into the room. Noiselessly closing the door with his foot, Will sprang to the Liberator, threw his arms in a strangling embrace about his neck, and pulled him backwards to the floor. The General struggled and spluttered, half-choked. He was a powerful man, and in a wrestling match on even terms Will would have come off badly. But while the General was striving to regain his footing Azito glided from his place of concealment, forced a gag between his teeth and helped Will to bear him to the floor. Then, while Will held him firmly, the Indian deftly bound his arms and feet with the remainder of the cord. By the time this was done the General was black in the face with his frantic efforts to rise and to cry out. Meanwhile Machado, who had stopped the clicking when he heard the General enter, had watched with a look of horror all that went on. He dared not raise his voice, knowing full well that before he could release himself one or other of these desperate visitors would be free to deal with him.

The Liberator of Venezuela was now in bonds. There had been so little sound that the orderly at the farther end of the patio could have heard nothing. The other officers in the house were asleep. If only Fortune would smile a little longer, Will felt that the game would be absolutely in his hands.

Bidding Azito keep guard over the General, prostrate on the floor, Will went to the chair and released Machado.

"Stand up, senor," he said. "I have to ask a little more of you, and so long as you do exactly as I tell you, you will come to no harm from me."

"I had no hand in this, Excellency," the unhappy man blurted out, addressing the General.

"Silence!" said Will. "I will make that clear. You shall be released presently beyond the reach of General Carabano or any of his officers.

You shall not suffer for double treachery. Stand still!"

He quickly tied Machado's ankles together with a short piece of cord, so that he could walk but not run.

"Now listen very carefully. We are going to pa.s.s out of the camp. We shall probably come to the front of the house. The sentry will challenge you. You will give the pa.s.sword, and your name. He will ask you what we are carrying. You will say: 'His Excellency sends a spy to feed the caymans.' Say it now."

"But--but--" stammered the man, "you will not----"

"No, I shall not harm his Excellency. Repeat what I said."

"'His Excellency sends a spy to feed the caymans,'" said Machado.

"That is right. The sentry may ask questions. You must answer him: say what you please, but do not play me false. The sentry may wish to see the spy. You must keep him off. If you cannot do so, so much the worse for you. You cannot run, you are unarmed--I will make sure of that; and if you attempt to give the alarm be sure that you, at any rate, will not escape. You understand? Your safety depends on ours. And it will be well to remember, too, that if we fail, n.o.body will believe all this was done without your connivance. Is it clear?"

"Yes, senor," murmured the man.

Will searched his pockets for arms. He had none. But he shot a momentary glance towards a long cape hanging from a peg on the wall.

Will saw the glance, and feeling the garment, discovered a revolver.

This he put in his pocket. Then, opening the door into the adjoining cloak-room, he ordered Machado to take the General's head and Azito the legs. The General writhed and heaved, until Will slipped under his knees a short board that held his legs stiff. The two men lifted him.

When they stood in the doorway Will turned out the light. Then he bade them carry their bulky burden into the next room.

From the window Will saw that the camp was in utter darkness. No lights from the back of the house shone upon the ground. He opened both leaves of the window and pa.s.sed on to the veranda. The others followed him slowly as he made his way to the right-hand corner. There he stopped and peeped round. The stables were opposite this face of the house, and a light shone upon them from the General's bedroom. It would be unsafe to pa.s.s that way. They must descend from the veranda, cross a few yards of ground, and come to the rear of the stables. Between these and the last of the line of tents, on this side, there was a gap of perhaps fifteen yards. Will listened for the footfall of a sentry. All was silent save slight sounds from the stables: probably the man was asleep.

Bidding the others follow him he went down the steps and walked on. It was very dark: their forms could scarcely have been seen if the sentry had been alert.

They came to the back of the stables, and, striking to the right, reached the end of the wall. Here they halted for a moment, while Will glanced around. A light through the open door of the house was reflected on the surface of the lake. To his joy he saw that De Mello's little sailing yacht lay at the jetty. He had feared it might have been removed. Creeping along by the front wall of the stables he came to a spot whence he could see the door. A sentry was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, his head bent forward as in slumber. It might be possible to get to the jetty without waking him. Will returned to the men, and whispering "Remember!" to Machado, he led the way towards the terrace whence a few steps led down to the jetty.

They were half-way there when, just as they came within the illuminated s.p.a.ce, the sentry in a sleepy voice cried, "Who goes there?"

"A friend!" answered Machado at once.

"The word?"

"Libertad!"

The General began to struggle, and Will pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his brow.

"Who is it?" said the sentry.

"Stop, and answer him," whispered Will.

"Miguel Machado: you know me," said Machado.