Naturally, the countenance of the first was radiant with joyous excitement.
"It has been a great day for Caracas," he said. "President Castro has reason to be proud of it, as nothing has happened to mar its perfect harmony. Yet there is a rumor afloat--I know not how it got started--that there is a secret enemy in the capital, a spy, waiting for a favorable chance to strike a deadly blow at the hero himself."
"I suppose efforts will be made to capture him?" said Ronie.
"Be assured of that. A handsome reward is offered. Oh, they will get him, soon or late."
Then a sigh escaped the lips of the handsome young officer, and he murmured to himself rather than to his companions:
"I would, dear father, you might have been spared to witness this day, for I believe you would have rejoiced with the rest of us." Then, suddenly remembering his companions, he said: "Forgive me, señors, but to me these very shadows of this building are sacred. It was here, in the last revolution, my dear father, with nine others, made their final stand and fought so good a fight that it was found necessary to build a fire in the tower and smoke them out with the fumes of sulphur. Ay, it was a desperate test for the ten," said Francisco, while his dark eyes lighted with an intense light and his thin hand quivered spasmodically.
"Did your father and his friends perish?" asked Harrie and Ronie, both deeply interested in this simple narrative.
"It was their only alternative, señors, for to yield meant death and torture. Father, let it be said to his credit, gave his companions opportunity to surrender; but, let it be said to their credit, they stood bravely together. Then, their last shot spent, and the fumes of the drug rapidly overpowering them, they threw themselves from the tower into the street. It is said they went downward to their fate with clasped hands. I am glad I did not witness the sad sight. But I believe a brighter day is dawning for poor Venezuela, and that her brave defenders did not give their lives in vain."
Our three friends were deeply touched with this pathetic story, related in such gentle tones as to make it seem like some sweet vision rather than one of grim war's bitter sacrifices. Looking beyond their heroic companion, they were struck with the peacefulness of their environments, so well in accord with the manner of the speaker, all tending to soften the tragic interest of the scene of warlike and heroic action. Where the ill-fated band of patriots, the last to make a stand at that time, must have fallen, ran the sunken rails of the tram cars, and in sight were the notion shops and confectionery stores, where laughing, prattling children were wont to come to find the simple toys and playthings to amuse them. At nighttime electric lights illuminated with their dazzling splendor the now peaceful scene, while seekers of religious promises wended their way softly in and out of the old cathedral.