queduct. Certain guards were bribed, among them Don Tiburcio. The
humorous rascal had driven a hard bargain, but only because the money
was to be had. He would have sold himself as briskly for the cream of
the jest.

Late the same night there came a frantic pounding at Driscoll's door,
where he was quartered in the sacristy of the old Capuchin church.
"Well?" he muttered, alert already.

"Hurry, mi coronel!" a cracked voice blended with the knocking. "Hurry,
you are wanted!"

"Murgie!" Driscoll exclaimed, flinging wide the door. "Back from San
Luis, and prowling round here as usual, eh? Well, what's the matter?"

"Quick, senor! Maximilian is sick. Go, go to him!"

Partly dressed, bootless, unarmed, Driscoll shoved the old man aside,
and sped through the church, hopping over half awakened soldiers as he
went. Once in the street, he glanced up at the tower room, which was
Maximilian's, and thought it odd that no light streamed through the
narrow slits there. The sentinels, too, were gone. But he ran up the
steps and darted along the corridor, only to strike his head against a
heavy wooden door that was ajar. He rushed inside the cell, and with
arms outspread quickly covered the space of it, in the utter dark
smashing a chair, crashing over a table, cursing a mishap to his toe.
But he found no one.

"This here's a jail-break," he mumbled under his breath. "Dam' that
Murgie, he's roped me in to stop 'em!" Whereat, all unconsciously, he
smiled again at Fatality.

Groping his way back to the corridor, he felt rather than saw three dim
figures steal past the door. Silently, swiftly, he gave pursuit. He
heard a fervent whisper just ahead.

"Hasten, dear friends, and may God----"

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
e