do as I say. Mr. Cavendish, see if the man
bears weapons."

"Only a belt with a knife."

"Keep the knife; it may come handy for some purpose. Now bind his
hands with the belt. Cross your wrists, _senor_."

He had lost his temper, no longer deeming this a joke.

"You damn vixen," he growled savagely. "This play will soon be done;
do you know who I am?"

"The Senor Pasqual Mendez, but that means nothing," she answered.
"This revolver will kill you as surely as any one else. Do what I say
then, and talk no more--cross your wrists behind."

He did so, and Cavendish strapped the stout belt about them, winding it
in and out until he had sure purchase. He drew it so tightly the
fellow winced.

"It hurts, _senor_," she said, satisfied. "Well, to hurt you a little
is better than what you planned for me. Now lead on. No, listen
first. I know who you are and your power here. That is why we took
this chance of making you prisoner. We are desperate; it is either
your life, or ours, _senor_. You are an outlaw, with a price on your
head, and you realise what chances one will take to escape. Now there
is just one opportunity given you to live."

"What, _senorita_?"

"That you accompany us down this passage into the valley as hostage.
You will compel your men, if we encounter any, to furnish us horses."

"But the men may not obey. I cannot promise; Senor Cateras----"

"Senor Cateras will not be there," she interrupted sharply. "We have
already seen to Senor Cateras. The others will obey you?"

"They may; I cannot promise."

"Then it will be your own loss; for if there be a shot fired, you will
get either a bullet or a knife thrust. I would try no sharp tricks,
Senor Mendez. Now we go on."

Mendez smiled grimly in the dark, his mind busy. He had seen much of
life of a kind and felt no doubt but this young woman would keep her
word. She had become sufficiently desperate to be dangerous, and he
felt no desire to drive her to extremes. Besides he was helpless to
resist, but would watch for opportunity, trusting in luck.

"I am to go first?" and his voice assumed polite deference.

"Beside Mr. Cavendish," she replied, "and I will be behind."

"This gentleman, you mean?"

"Yes; and there is no need for any more acting. This is the revolver
pressing against your back, _senor_. I could scarcely miss you at that
distance."

They advanced in silence, through the faint gleam of light which
illumine