While Doña Rosario effected her escape by the assistance of Curumilla, as recorded in the "Adventurers," Don Tadeo was not long in regaining his senses. On opening his eyes he cast a bewildered look around him, but as soon as memory threw light into his brain, he let his head sink into his hands, and gave a free vent to his grief. Don Tadeo wept! Don Tadeo, the King of Darkness, who a hundred times had smilingly looked death in the face—who had had such a miraculous escape—the man whose iron will had so rapidly crushed everything that opposed the execution of his projects; who by a word, a gesture, a frown, governed thousands of men submissive to his caprices, wept. But Don Tadeo was not a man whom grief, however intense, could depress for a length of time. "Oh, all is not ended yet," he cried. "But courage! I have a people to save before I avenge my daughter." He clapped his hands, and Don Gregorio appeared. He saw at a glance the ravages which grief had made in the mind of his friend, but he saw that the King of Darkness had subdued the father. It was about seven o'clock in the morning. "What are your intentions with regard to General Bustamente?" Gregorio asked. Don Tadeo was calm, cold, and impassive; all traces of emotion had disappeared from his face, which had the whiteness and rigidity of marble. "My friend," he replied, "we yesterday saved the liberty of our country, which was on the verge of ruin; but if, thanks to you and to all the devoted patriots who fought on our side, I have for ever overthrown Don Bustamente, and annihilated his ambitious projects, I have not on that account taken his place."
While Doña Rosario effected her escape by the assistance of Curumilla, as recorded in the "Adventurers," Don Tadeo was not long in regaining his senses. On opening his eyes he cast a bewildered look around him, but as soon as memory threw light into his brain, he let his head sink into his hands, and gave a free vent to his grief. Don Tadeo wept! Don Tadeo, the King of Darkness, who a hundred times had smilingly looked death in the face—who had had such a miraculous escape—the man whose iron will had so rapidly crushed everything that opposed the execution of his projects; who by a word, a gesture, a frown, governed thousands of men submissive to his caprices, wept. But Don Tadeo was not a man whom grief, however intense, could depress for a length of time. "Oh, all is not ended yet," he cried. "But courage! I have a people to save before I avenge my daughter." He clapped his hands, and Don Gregorio appeared. He saw at a glance the ravages which grief had made in the mind of his friend, but he saw that the King of Darkness had subdued the father. It was about seven o'clock in the morning. "What are your intentions with regard to General Bustamente?" Gregorio asked. Don Tadeo was calm, cold, and impassive; all traces of emotion had disappeared from his face, which had the whiteness and rigidity of marble. "My friend," he replied, "we yesterday saved the liberty of our country, which was on the verge of ruin; but if, thanks to you and to all the devoted patriots who fought on our side, I have for ever overthrown Don Bustamente, and annihilated his ambitious projects, I have not on that account taken his place."