In the town hall were to be heard blows, cries, and curses, with the voice of the alferez dominating everything: "To the stocks! Handcuff them! Shoot any one who moves! Sergeant, mount the guard! Today no one shall walk about, not even God! Captain, this is no time to go to sleep!" Ibarra hastened his steps toward home, where his servants were anxiously awaiting him.

"Saddle the best horse and go to bed!" he ordered them.
Going into his study, he hastily packed a traveling-bag, opened an iron safe, took out what money he found there and put it into some sacks.

Then he collected his jewels, took clown a portrait of Maria Clara, armed himself with a dagger and two revolvers, and turned toward a closet where he kept his instruments.
At that moment three heavy knocks sounded on the door.

"Who's there ?" asked Ibarra in a gloomy tone.
"Open, in the King's name, open at once, or we'll break the door down," answered an imperious voice in Spanish.
Ibarra looked toward the window, his eyes gleamed, and he cocked his revolver.

Then changing his mind, he put the weapons down and went to open the door just as the servant appeared.