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Don Tadeo had passed the greater part of the night in giving orders for the clearing away of the hideous traces left by the combat. He had named the magistrates charged with the police of the city. After having assured, as far as possible, the tranquillity and safety of the citizens, and sent several couriers to Santiago, and other centres of population, to inform them of what had taken place, worn out with fatigue, sinking with sleep, he had thrown himself, clothed as he was, upon a camp bed, to take a little repose. He had slept scarcely an hour that agitated sleep which is the lot of men upon whom the destinies of empires rest, when the door of the chamber was pushed violently open, a strong light gleamed in his eyes, and several men surrounded him. Don Tadeo awoke suddenly.
"Who is there? " he cried, endeavouring to recognise, in spite of the light which dazzled his eyes, the persons who so inopportunely disturbed his repose.