The doors, closed in the best manner they could be, were nevertheless supported with bars from within. On the outside, those who had constituted themselves the bodyguard of Ferrer worked with their shoulders, their arms, and their voice to keep the place empty, praying from the bottom of their hearts that they would be expeditious.
"Quick, quick!" said Ferrer, as he reached the portico, to the servants who surrounded him, crying, "May your excellency be rewarded! What goodness! Great God, what goodness!"
"Quick, quick," repeated Ferrer, "where is this poor man?"
The superintendent descended the stairs half led, half carried by his domestics, and pale as death. When he saw who had come to his assistance, he sighed deeply, his pulse returned, and a slight colour tinged his cheek. He hastened to meet Ferrer, saying, "I am in the hands of God and your excellency; but how go hence? we are surrounded on all sides by people who desire my death."
"Venga con migo usted[1], and take courage. My carriage is at the door; quick, quick!" He took him by the hand, and, continuing to encourage him, led him towards the door, saying in his heart, however, Aqui esta el busilis! Dios nos valga![2]
The door opened; Ferrer appeared first; the superintendent followed, shrinking with fear, and clinging to the protecting toga, as an infant to the gown of its mother. Those who had maintained the space free raised their hands and waved their hats; making in this manner a sort of cloud to conceal the superintendent from the view of the people, and to enable him to enter the carriage, and place himself out of sight. Ferrer followed, and the carriage was closed. The people drew their own conclusions as to what had taken place, and there arose, in consequence, a mingled sound of applauses and imprecations.
The return of the carriage might seem to be even more difficult and dangerous; but the willingness of the public to suffer the superintendent to be carried to prison was
