The Convent of the Bernardines had naturally become for some days past the centre of the surveillance, as it were the spying headquarters, of Don Sebastian's agents. The arrival of a carriage with closed blinds at the convent at once gave the alarm; and though Mr. Rallier was not personally known, the fact of his being a Frenchman was sufficient to rouse suspicions.
While the Frenchman and the monk were conversing in the parlour with the abbess, a lepero pretended to hurt himself, and was conveyed by two of his acolytes to the convent gate, and the good hearted porter had not refused him admission, but, on the contrary, had eagerly given him all the assistance his condition seemed to require.
While the lepero was gradually regaining his senses, his comrades asked questions with that captious skill peculiar to their Mexican nature. The sister porter was a worthy woman, endowed with a very small stock of brains, and fond of talking. On finding this opportunity to indulge in her favourite employment, she was easily led on, and, almost of her own accord, told all she knew, not suspecting the harm she did. Let us hasten to add that this all was very little; but, being understood and commented on by intelligent men interested in discovering the truth, it was extremely serious.
When the three leperos had drawn all they could out of the sister porter, they hastened to leave the convent. Just as they emerged into the street, they found themselves face to face with Ño Carnero, the general's capataz, whom his master had sent on a tour of discovery. They ran up to him, and in a few words told him what had happened.
This was grave, and the capataz trembled inwardly at the revelation, for he understood the terrible danger by which his friends were menaced. But Carnero was a clever man, and at once made up his mind to his course of action.
He greatly praised the leperos for the skill they had displayed in discovering the secret, put some piastres into their hands, and sent them off to the general, with the recommendation, which was most unnecessary, to make all possible speed. Then, in his turn, he began prowling round the convent, and especially the carriage, which Curumilla made no difficulty in letting him approach, for the reader will doubtless have guessed that the animosity the Indian had on several occasions evinced for the capataz was pretended, and that they were perfectly good friends when nobody could see or hear them.