t the eyes of both man and girl turned at his
words from an intent gaze, not on the town but the opposite hills, he
added, half-apologetic: "I shall go, _Senor_, and look to my prisoner.
If you need me, I shall be there."

With the same stricken misery in her eyes that they had worn as she
passed in her carriage, Cara remained motionless and silent.

The bottom of the valley grew cloudy with shadow. The sun was kissing
into rosy pink the snow caps of the western ridge. A cavalcade of
horsemen emerged at last from _do Freres_ and started at a smart trot
for the Palace. Cara pointed downward with one tremulous finger. Benton
nodded.

"Safe," he said, but without enthusiasm.

"I must go." Cara started down the path and the man walked beside her as
far as the battered gate which hung awry from its broken columns. Over
it now clambered masses of vine richly purple with bougonvillea. She
broke off a branch and handed it to him. "Purple," she said again, "is
the color of mourning and royalty."

Blanco noted the coming of evening and realized that it would be well to
reach the level of the city before dark. He knew that if Lapas was to be
turned over to Karyl's authorities, steps to that end should be taken
before he was discovered and released by those of his own faction. He
accordingly made his way back to the gate.

Benton was still standing, looking down the alley-way which ran between
the half ruined lines of masonry. His shoulders unconsciously sagged.

The Spaniard approached quietly and stood for a moment unwilling to
interrupt, then in a low voice touched with that affectionate note which
men are not ashamed to show even to other men in the Latin countries, he
said: "_Senor_ Benton!"

The American turned and put out his hand, grasping that of the
_toreador_. His grip said what his lips left unworded.

"_Dios mio!_" exclaimed Blanco with a black scowl. "We saved the King,
but we bought his life and his throne too high! He cost too dear!"

"Blanco," Benton spoke with difficulty, "I have brought you with me and
you have asked no questions. The story is not mine to tell."

The Andalusian raised a hand in protestation.

"It is not necessary that you tell me anything, _Senor_. I have seen
enough. And I know the King was not worth the price."

Benton shook his head. "Are you going on with me, now that you know what
you know?"

"_Senor_, it grieves me that you should ask. I told you I was at your
disposition."