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But it is impossible to reach the pa.s.sage, and since these Mexicans came I have reason to believe they keep a guard."
"They were not here, then, at first?"
"Only for a few days; before that two rough-looking fellows, but Americans, were all I saw. Now they have gone, and Mexicans have taken their places--they are worse than the others. Do you know what it means?"
"Only partially. I have overheard some talk. It seems this is a rendezvous for a band of outlaws headed by one known as Pasqual Mendez.
I have not seen their leader; but his lieutenant had charge of me."
"Miss Donovan," he said with gravity, "we are in the hands of desperate men. We will have to take desperate measures to outwit them, and we will have to make desperate breaks to obtain our freedom."
The girl nodded.
"Mr. Cavendish," she said with womanly courage, "you will not find me wanting. I am ready for anything, even shooting. I do hope you're a good shot."
Cavendish smiled.
"I have had some experience," he said.
"Then," the girl added, "you had better take the revolver. I never fired one except on the Fourth of July, and I would not want to trust to my marksmanship in a pinch. Not that we will meet any such situation, Mr. Cavendish--I hope we do not--but in case we do I want to depend upon you."
"I am glad you said that, Miss Donovan; it gives me courage."
The girl handed the revolver over to him without a word and then held out the cartridge belt. He snapped open the weapon to a.s.sure himself it was loaded and then ran his fingers over the belt pockets.
"Thirty-six rounds," adjusting the belt to his waist; "that ought to promise a good fight. Do you feel confidence in me again?"
"Yes," she answered, her eyes lifting to meet his. "I trust you."
"Good. I am not a very desperate character, but will do the best I can. Shall we try the pa.s.sage?"
"Yes. It is the only hope."
"All right then; I'll go first, and you follow as close as possible.
There mustn't be the slightest sound made."
Cavendish thrust his head cautiously through the door, the revolver gripped in his hand; Miss Donovan, struggling to keep her nerves steady, touched the coat of her companion, fearful of being alone. The pa.s.sage-way was dark, except for the little bars of light streaming out through the slits in the stone above the cell doors. These, however, were sufficient to convince Cavendish that no guards were in the immediate neighbourhood. He felt the grip of the girl's fingers on his coat, and reached back to clasp her hand.
"All clear," he whispered. "Hurry, and let's get this door closed."
They slipped through, crouching in the shadow as the door shut behind them, eagerly seeking to pierce the mystery of the gloom into which the narrow corridor vanished. Beyond the two cells and their dim rays all was black silence, yet both felt a strange relief at escaping from the confines of their prison. The open pa.s.sage was cool, and the fugitives felt fresh air upon their cheeks; nowhere did any sound break the silence. Stella had a feeling as though they were buried alive.
"That--that is the way, is it not?" she asked. "I was brought from below."
"Yes; it is not far; see, the pa.s.sage leads upward. Come, we might as well learn what is ahead."
They advanced slowly, keeping closely against the wall, and testing the floor cautiously before venturing a step. A few yards plunged them into total darkness, and, although Cavendish had been conducted along there a prisoner, he retained small recollection of the nature of the pa.s.sage.
Their progress was slow but silent, neither venturing to exchange speech, but with ears anxiously strained to catch the least sound.
Stella was conscious of the loud beating of her heart, the slight rasping of Cavendish's feet on the rock floor. The slightest noise seemed magnified. The grade rose sharply, until it became almost a climb, yet the floor had evidently been levelled, and there were no obstructions to add to the difficulty of advance. Then the pa.s.sage swerved rather sharply to the right, and Cavendish, leading, halted to peer about the corner. An instant they both remained motionless, and then, seeing and hearing nothing, she could restrain her impatience no longer.
"What is it?" she questioned. "Is there something wrong?"
He reached back and drew her closer, without answering, until her eyes also were able to look around the sharp edge of rock. Far away, it seemed a long distance up that narrow tunnel, a lantern glowed dully, the light so dim and flickering as to scarcely reveal even its immediate surroundings; yet from that distance, her eyes accustomed to the dense gloom, she could distinguish enough to quicken her breathing and cause her to clutch the sleeve of her companion.
The lantern occupied a niche in the side wall at the bottom of a flight of rude steps. Not more than a half-dozen of these were revealed, but at their foot, where the pa.s.sage had been widened somewhat, extended a stone bench, on which lounged two men. One was lying back, his head pillowed on a rolled coat, yet was evidently awake; for the other, seated below him, with knees drawn up for comfort, kept up conversation in a low voice, the words being inaudible at that distance. Even in that dim light the two were clearly Mexican.
"What shall we do?" she asked, her lips at Cavendish's ear. "We cannot pa.s.s them--they are on guard."
"I was wondering how close I could creep in before they saw me," he answered, using the same caution. "If I was only sure they were alone, and could once get the drop, we might make it."
"You fear there may be others posted at the top?"
"There is quite likely to be; the fellows are evidently taking no chances of surprise. What do you think best?"
"Even if you succeeded in overawing these two, we would have no way of securing them. An alarm would be given before we could get beyond reach. Our only hope of escape lies in getting out of here unseen."
"Yes, and before Cateras is discovered."
"He gave no orders to the guard to return?"
"No; but he will be missed after a while and sought for. We cannot count on any long delay, and when it is found that he has been knocked out, and we have disappeared, every inch of this cave will be searched.
There is no place to hide, and only the two ways by which to get out."
"Then, let's go back and try the other," she urged. "That opens directly into the valley and is probably not guarded. What is happening now?"
A grey gleam of light struck the steps from above, recognised instantly as a reflection of day, as though some cover had been uplifted connecting this underground labyrinth with the clear sky. A dim shadow touched the illumined rocks for a brief moment, a moving shadow uncertain in its outlines, grotesque, shapeless: and then the daylight vanished as suddenly as it dawned. There was a faint click, as though a door closed, while darkness resumed sway, the silence unbroken, but for the sc.r.a.ping of a step on those rude stairs. The two guards below came to their feet, rigid in the glow of the lantern, their faces turned upward. Then a man came slowly down the last few steps and joined them.
CHAPTER XXVII: A DANGEROUS PRISONER
He was tall and thin, wearing a wide cloak about his shoulders, and high hat with broad brim. Even at that distance it could be seen that his long hair was grey, and that a heavy moustache, snow-white, made more noticeable the thin features of his face. The man was Mexican, no doubt of that, but of the higher cla.s.s, the dead pallor of his skin accented by the black, deep-seated eyes. He looked at the two men closely, and his voice easily reached the ears of the listeners.
"Who posted you here?"
"Juan Cateras, _senor_," answered one.
"Not on my order. Dias is watching above. Did the lieutenant give you a reason?"
"The prisoners, _senor_."
"The prisoners! Oh, yes; those that Lacy had confined here. Well, they will not be here for long. I do not believe in prisoners, and because I do business with that dog is no reason why he is privileged to use this place to hold his victims. I have just despatched a messenger to Haskell to that effect, and we'll soon be rid of them.
Where is Cateras?"
"In the valley, _senor_! he went back down the pa.s.sage with Silva after posting us here."
"And the prisoners?"