eing shot," he moaned; "it's not being able to tell them
that I'm not a fool, but a respectable merchant able to pay my way and
with a balance at William Deacon's Bank. But it serves me right!" Then a
little inconsequently he added, "By gum, if I get out of this I'll have
a Spanish clerk in the works and learn the language!"

Which was John Mortimer's way of making a vow to the gods.

Etienne, having his hands comparatively free, and finding himself
sleepless, looked enviously at Rollo's untroubled repose, and began to
twist cigarettes for himself and the sentry who guarded his side of the
granary.

Without, the owls circled and cried. A dog barked in the village above,
provoking a far-reaching chorus of his kind. Then blows fell, and he
fled yelping out of earshot.

Rollo was not wholly comfortable on his couch of grain. The bonds about
his feet galled him, having been more tightly drawn than those of his
companions in virtue of his chiefship. Nevertheless he got a good deal
of sleep, and each time that he awoke it seemed to him that El Sarria
was staring harder at the sentry and that the man had moved a little
nearer.

At last, turning his head a little to one side, he heard distinctly the
low murmur of voices.

"Do you remember Pancorbo?" said Ramon Garcia.

Rollo could not hear the answer, but he caught the outlaw's next
question.

"And have you forgotten El Sarria, who, having a certain Miguelete under
the point of his knife, let him go for his sweetheart's sake, because
she was waiting for him down in the valley?"

The sentry's reply was again inaudible, but Rollo was fully awake now.
Ramon Garcia had not abandoned hope, and why should he? When there was
anything to be done, none could be so alert as Rollo Blair.

"I am El Sarria the outlaw," Ramon went on, "and these are my
companions. We are no traitors, but good Carlists to a man. Our papers
are----"

Here the words were spoken so low that Rollo could not hear more, but
the next moment he was nudged by Ramon on the leg.

"Write a note to Concha Cabezos, telling her to bring the papers here at
once if she would save our lives. You are sure she is faithful?"

"I am sure!" said Rollo, who really had no reason for his confidence
except the expression in her eyes.

He had no paper, but catching the sentry's eye, he nodded across to
where Etienne was still diligently rolling cigarettes.

"Alcoy?" he whispered.

The sentry shouldered his piece and