"If the reply from Ciudad Bolivar is unsatisfactory, the General will send a messenger to Las Piedras?"
The answer disposed of Will's last hope. The only means of saving the prisoners was to deal with the General himself. It was a desperate game to play in the midst of a hostile camp, but his first move, with Machado, had been successful, and the man was so cowed and terror-stricken that he might prove a serviceable instrument in the larger scheme. Time was running short; it was a quarter past eleven. Will made up his mind to risk all.
"Dismiss the man at your door," he said. "Tell him that you need him no longer. You will take the message to the General yourself. Attempt no treachery. I will keep my word."
He motioned to Azito, of whose presence Machado seemed to become aware for the first time, to stand behind a clothes-press near the camp-bed.
"Open the door only a few inches," he continued. "Now!"
He stepped behind the door, allowing room for it to open about twelve inches. He could not be seen by the man in the patio, but was able to cover Machado with his revolver. The telegraphist lay for a few moments as though hesitating.
Machado rose unsteadily and, walking to the door, opened it. In a low voice he called to the sleeping man. There was no reply or movement.
Machado touched the man with his foot. He started up. Machado gave him the instruction Will had dictated, and he went off at once, glad enough, no doubt, to find a more comfortable bed. When he was gone, Will closed the door.
But Will marked a slight hesitation before the answer was given.
"Are you sure?" he said fiercely. "A mistake will cost you dear."
"A slip, señor," said Machado, quailing. "Bolivar was last night's password: to-night's is Libertad."
"Make no more slips. Now go to your table."
On the table, close to the instrument, lay a number of telegram forms plundered from the railway, and a pencil. Pointing to these, Will said--
"Write what I say. 'Release prisoners: will send----' Stop there, and add, 'Message interrupted.'"
Machado wrote the words. His fingers trembled so violently that the strokes were like those of an old man. Then Will, telling Azito to stand over Machado with his knife and to kill him if he moved, he turned the handle at the side of the instrument that switched off the current, and worked the operating handle for half-a-minute. The clicks could be distinctly heard in the patio, but the current being switched off, no effect was produced at the other end of the wire.