ped out
of the car and proffered his hand. "When you have recovered, we will
discuss the question of taking vengeance on El Diablo Cojuelo," he
added. "He is now entirely at your mercy."

"And I shall not spare him!" responded Myra.

* * *

"I am simply aching with curiosity, Myra," said Lady Fermanagh a few
hours later. "Do, please, tell me everything. Tony has been talking
strangely, and Don Carlos is reticent about what happened at the
bandit's lair, but I suppose it was he who rescued you."

"Has he said so?" asked Myra.

She had collapsed on reaching the Castillo de Ruiz, but was now feeling
better after a long rest, a warm bath, and a dainty meal.

"Not in so many words," answered Lady Fermanagh. "He seems desperately
worried, and so does Tony, who says he will have to return to England
to-morrow. I can't make out what has been happening, Myra. Do tell
me."

"It is difficult to explain, Aunt," said Myra slowly, after much
hesitation. "El Diablo Cojuelo professed to have fallen in love with
me at first sight, and I was crazy enough to promise to become his wife
if Tony offered to renounce me. Tony did renounce me when he was
threatened with torture, and I was married to El Diablo Cojuelo in his
presence last night. Tony failed me, and now I hate and despise him."

"Myra!" gasped Lady Fermanagh in horrified amazement. "Married to the
brigand! You--you don't mean actually married?"

"I don't believe it could have been a proper marriage, although
Don--er--Cojuelo swore the man who performed the service was an
ordained priest," said Myra, avoiding her aunt's eyes. "I don't
suppose it matters much now whether I am Cojuelo's wife--or only his
mistress."

"His mistress!" Lady Fermanagh was white to the lips as she repeated
the words. "You mean that he----?"

The hot colour stained Myra's pale face as she met her aunt's eyes, and
nodded her red-gold head in shamed assent.

"Myra, you are ruined!" Lady Fermanagh almost wailed, wringing her
be-ringed hands. "What madness possessed you to offer to marry the
brigand?"

"He taunted me--and Tony failed me," Myra answered, oddly reluctant to
explain everything. "I wish I were dead."

"Does Don Carlos know?" asked her aunt, and again Myra flushed as she
nodded assent.

"Yes, he alone knows, Aunt," she said, "and he alone knows whether the
marriage service was a mockery or not."

Lady Fermanagh, still wringing her hands, rose a