the doom of a traitor!" cried Dolores, with haughty mien.
"What! Not a traitor?" she mocked at the pirate's frantic howl of
denial. "Then Dolores has erred, perhaps. There is a test, good Sancho.
Let me see if I am wrong!"

She signed to Milo, and the giant swung Sancho around until he faced the
deepest recess of the cave. There, swathed in mummy clothes, preserved
by the chemical miracle of the stratum of red earth that formed the core
of the rock, the body of Red Jabez stood erect against the wall, bathed
in the red glow, diamonds glittering where the dead eyes had been. And
on the rock ledge at his feet stood a tall flagon of gold, in which
Dolores had brewed an awful potion for this event. Beside this ledge
stood a low brazier full of glowing charcoal; on a tabouret near by lay
several terrible implements the use of which needed no explanation.

"Look upon the face of the Red Chief, and drink this draft--'tis his
blood!" she cried, seizing the flagon and thrusting it into Sancho's
hands. "Then, if thy heart held no treachery toward me, thy life and
limbs are safe. But have a care! A lie in thy heart will surely undo
thee. Drink!"

A splitting thunder-crash filled the place with uproar; a gust of the
tempest from the outer entrance sent the wind swirling in. It was as if
the breath of the storm snatched Sancho's senses back from the
terror-land they had fled to; he ceased his howling, glared defiantly up
at the dead chief, and cried in desperation: "Give me the drink! I fear
neither gods nor devils; why should I fear you, dead man?"

"Wait!" Dolores laid a hand on his arm, and stayed the flagon at his
lips. "Wait, till I tell thee more. Then, if thou art guiltless, and go
from here with the treasure I gave thee, thou'lt know thy friends and
thy foes.

"Didst think Yellow Rufe was free? Thou fool! Thy wits are powerless
before a woman's. Did my pretty Pascherette tell him he might go free,
taking my sloop, escaping my vengeance, as thou didst think to? Didst
hear those voices? Then I tell thee, Sancho, that ten-score count, that
Rufe doubtless made in fear and trembling, but sufficed to raise his
hopes. For ere he had gained the sloop and started her anchor,
Pascherette had done her work. The stranger's schooner is full of my
men, waiting for Rufe to come for his booty. Let him take alarm, then
how far may he win? Thou'lt never know, false Sancho, for I have no
doubt of thy treachery. Now drink, if thou darest!"