"I have no sympathy for such men!" he continued defiantly. "A murderer takes only human life; a traitor would take the life of his country. In the States," he cried hotly, "we make short work with traitors. We hang them!"
He wheeled furiously on Peter, as though Peter had contradicted him.
"I say we do," he exclaimed. "It's in the Constitution. It's the law. You've read it yourself. It's page fifty-four, paragraph four, of the Constitution of the United States. 'Punishment for Traitors.' Page fifty-four, paragraph four."
Apparently with sudden remorse at his impetuosity, he turned to the doctor.
"I beg your pardon," he exclaimed. "I _did_ forget myself. But to me, men like that are intolerable."
"Then you had better avoid their presence," he said angrily.
With an impatient gesture he motioned the two Americans into the corridor, and in distress approached the prisoner.
"I apologize, sir," he said, "for having subjected you to such an incident."
But General Rojas made no answer. To his surprise, Vicenti found that the old man was suffering from the scene even more keenly than he had feared. Like one suddenly bereft of strength, General Rojas had sunk into his chair. His bloodless, delicate hands trembled upon the table. Great tears crept down his white, wrinkled face. In the two years through which the young doctor had watched his patient he had never before seen in his eyes the strange, mad light that now shone there. To the medical man, it meant only that the end was nearer than he had supposed. Shocked and grieved, the doctor made a movement to withdraw.
General Rojas raised his head. With an effort he drew over his face its customary, deathlike mask.
"It is nothing!" he exclaimed. "What is one more insult, what is one more degradation, when I know that my end is near!" He raised his voice; it was strangely vigorous, youthful, jubilant; it carried through the open bars to the far end of the corridor. "What does anything matter," he cried, "when I know--that the end is near!" His head sunk upon the table. To hide his tears, the General buried his face in his hands.
Outside, in the darkness, Peter clutched Roddy by the hand, and for an instant crushed it in his own.
"Do you hear?" he whispered. "He is answering you."