hough not yet cold, the cause of death being clearly indicated by a
small bullet-wound fair in the centre of his forehead.

My thoughts flew back in an instant to the night on which we last stood
under that same roof, to the attempted abduction of Dona Antonia; and
the conviction at once seized upon me that we were now looking upon
another piece of Senor Madera's work.

The same thought evidently struck Smellie, for he turned to me and
exclaimed breathlessly:

"Dona Antonia!--where can she be?"

And without waiting for an answer he dashed into the passage and began
calling loudly:

"Antonia! Antonia mia! where are you, darling! It is I--Harold."

Then, receiving no answer, he shouted alternately for Don Manuel and old
Madre Dolores.

This time he was more successful, for as he paused for breath we heard a
voice far down the garden-path replying in Spanish, "Hola! Hola! Who
calls for me so loudly?"

And looking in that direction we saw Don Manuel sauntering up the path
with his gun thrown carelessly over his shoulder and a well-filled bag
of "specimens" by his side.

We hastened out to meet him, and received a right joyous and hearty
greeting, to which we hastily responded; and then poor Smellie in his
anxiety blurted out:

"And where is Dona Antonia?"

"Is she not in the house?" asked Don Manuel.

"I cannot find her anywhere," replied Smellie, "and I greatly fear--"
then his natural caution returned to him and he checked himself. "By
the way," he continued, "have you seen anything of your friend Senor
Madera lately."

"No," answered Don Manuel, "he has never had the assurance to appear
here since the night on which he made his audacious attempt to abduct my
daughter; but I noticed just now that his ship is in the creek below
there, so I hastened home, deeming it only prudent to be on the spot
whilst he favours us with his unwelcome proximity."

"His ship in the creek!" exclaimed Smellie incredulously. "Then she
must have arrived within the last half-hour, for it is barely that since
we passed from the mouth to the head of the creek, and no ship was in it
then."

A little cross-questioning, however, elicited the fact that there were
_two_ creeks near Don Manuel's house; we had explored the western creek,
and it was the other which at that moment sheltered Senor Madera's ship.

Smellie then, with infinite tact and patience, gradually broke to the
poor old gentleman the news of the tragedy which