He led the way through rocky, winding passages to the great cave, in which his motley band were enjoying their evening meal with much loud talk and laughter. At sight of the cloaked and hooded figure of their master and his fair captive there was a sudden hush, however, and practically all the men sprang to their feet at once.

“Mendoza, the keys of the prisoner’s cell, please,” said Don Carlos. “The senorita wishes to speak to the Englishman.”

An elderly man with some keys on a chain attached to his belt hurried forward at once, and unlocked a massive door giving access to a small apartment that looked as if it had been hewn out of the solid rock. It was unfurnished save for a straw mattress with a brown blanket for covering, and a rough wooden bench, on which, when the door was flung open, Antony Standish was seated dejectedly with his head between his hands.

He sprang up with a sharp intake of breath, looking pale, startled and dishevelled, at sight of Myra and the hooded figure he assumed to be El Diablo Cojuelo.

“Hullo! What’s the idea now?” he asked quickly. “Why have you brought Miss Rostrevor here?”

“The senorita wishes to assure herself that what she has been told by Don Carlos de Ruiz is correct,” explained El Diablo Cojuelo, in his disguised and muffled voice. “I, also, wish to hear you say that you are prepared to accept your freedom and go back with Don Carlos to his castle, leaving the senorita with me, resigning her to me as your ransom.”

Myra found herself strangely calm, felt as if she had run through the whole gamut of emotions and exhausted them all.

“Tony, is it true you told Don Carlos that you were willing to go and leave me here at the mercy of this outlaw, who professes to be passionately in love with me?” she asked, scarcely recognising her own voice. “Is it true?”

“True? Er er why, of course not,” answered Standish, nervously fingering his little sandy moustache. “I mean to say er what exactly did Don Carlos tell you?”

“That you are prepared to leave me here, knowing that El Diablo Cojuelo will force me to become his wife, and accept your own freedom rather than run the risk of punishment,” said Myra. “You are prepared to renounce me, Tony?”

“No, no, nothing of the sort!” exclaimed Tony, his face flushing duskily. “Nothing of the sort! I distinctly told Don Carlos that nothing would induce me to surrender you to Cojuelo. Myra, darling, you know I would never think of doing such a thing.”

“So you assert that Don Carlos lied?” demanded Cojuelo sternly. “You did not tell him you would accept your freedom and leave the senorita to me if I refrained from flogging you and branding you? Will you swear that on oath on your sacred word of honour as an English gentleman?”

“Don Carlos must have misunderstood me,” Standish responded, nervously licking his dry lips. “Look here, Cojuelo, drop this fooling and be sensible. I realise you’ve got the whip hand, so to speak, and can dictate your own terms. How much do you want? I told Don Carlos I am willing to pay you ten thousand pounds that’s something like a million pesetas in your money to set Miss Rostrevor and me free. Think of it, man a million, and ”

“You have not answered my question, Senor Standish,” interrupted Cojuelo curtly. “Do you assert that Don Carlos de Ruiz lied when he said you were willing to accept your freedom and leave the Senorita Rostrevor to me? Will you meet Don Carlos face to face and denounce him as a liar?”

“Don Carlos must have misunderstood me,” repeated Tony. “It er it isn’t a question of calling him a liar. Look here, Cojuelo, what’s the use of all this bluff and bluster? Why don’t you come down to brass tacks and state your terms?”

“Don Carlos did not misunderstand you, and you are lying,” Cojuelo rasped at him. “Confess now to the Senorita Rostrevor that you have renounced her.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort, confound you!” Standish exclaimed angrily. “Why the deuce don’t you state your terms and have done with it?”

“My terms were clearly dictated to you through the medium of Don Carlos,” said Cojuelo. “I give you your freedom on condition that you renounce the Senorita Rostrevor and surrender her to me. Incidentally, the senorita has promised she will marry me if you renounce her.”

“I made the promise, Tony, because Don Car er I mean El Diablo Cojuelo boasted that you would surrender me to save yourself,” interposed Myra hastily. “I knew nothing would induce you to give me up, Tony. It isn’t true, is it, that you agreed to go away with Don Carlos and leave me here?”

“No, of course I didn’t mean that, Myra,” answered Tony, gulping as if he had a lump in his throat. “Didn’t I come here to ransom you?”

“If Don Carlos lied, and you still refuse to renounce the senorita after you have been flogged and put to the torture, then I will set her free and you also,” Cojuelo said grimly. “That is a promise, and Cojuelo never breaks a promise. Meanwhile I say again that you are lying, and that Don Carlos told the Senorita Rostrevor the truth.”

“Here, I say, Cojuelo, cut out this bluff about torture and all that sort of nonsense,” exclaimed Standish, with just a suspicion of unsteadiness in his voice. “I tell you I am prepared to pay any sum within reason as a ransom, and you won’t get any more by threatening me with physical violence. Look here, I’m willing to apologise for having tried to shoot you, but you know you exasperated me by taunting me about not valuing Miss Rostrevor.”

“What a charming piece of condescension on your part!” sneered Cojuelo. “If Don Carlos de Ruiz lied to the Senorita Rostrevor, I shall shoot him. That is another promise, senorita. As for you, perhaps the lash and the red hot iron on your flesh will induce you to speak truth as well as test your courage!”

He turned to the door, outside which the man with the keys was standing.

“Mendoza, order Perez, Riafio and Garcilaso to get ready the whipping post and make hot the branding irons at once,” he commanded in Spanish, then repeated the order in English for the benefit of Standish, whose face went livid.

“Oh, surely you won’t be so fiendishly cruel!” burst out Myra passionately. “If you dare to harm Tony ”

“We will withdraw, senorita, and leave Senor Standish to nerve himself for the ordeal that awaits him,” interrupted Cojuelo, and hustled her out of the cell before she could say more. “I swear I did not lie to you, Myra,” he resumed, as he clanged the door shut on the prisoner. “I am bluffing now, and have no intention of flogging or branding Standish, but only of scaring him into confessing that he is willing to give you to me to save himself.”

“And if he stands the test, if he refuses to give me up even when threatened with flogging and burning, you will keep your promise and set us both free?” asked Myra, after a breathless pause.

“Yes, assuredly and I shall also keep my promise to shoot Don Carlos,” was the grim reply. “Look, is it not a picturesque scene?” he added, with a change of tone.

The great cave, lighted by electricity, was certainly a remarkable sight, filled as it was with a picturesque crowd of men, some of them in what looked like stage costumes, nearly all chattering like excited children anticipating a treat as they watched some of their fellows erecting a whipping-post in the centre of the place, while another was busy working the bellows of what looked like a blacksmith’s furnace and making irons red-hot. A scene a great artist might have loved to paint, yet the atmosphere was so sinister that Myra shivered involuntarily.

“You are frightened, senorita?” queried Don Carlos, and it seemed to Myra there was something mocking and sardonic in his tone. “In England, I remember, you were renowned for your courage and your love of adventure. Surely this is a great adventure?”

The remark stung Myra’s pride, and her fair face flushed hotly.

“It disgusts and revolts me that you should try to terrorise a defenceless man to gratify your own vanity and humiliate me,” she answered angrily. “As for being afraid, the remote prospect of having to marry you certainly frightens me.”

Don Carlos made no answer, but strode across and talked rapidly to the men gathered round the whipping post and the furnace, evidently explaining to them at length what he wished them to do. Myra, of course, could not understand what was said, but she saw that some of the men laughed while others looked disappointed, and she concluded that Don Carlos was telling them that the preparations for the torture of the Englishman were all bluff.

“God grant that Tony’s courage does not fail him, and that he stands the test,” she whispered under her breath.

“It will be necessary for you to remain and witness the performance, senorita,” said Don Carlos coldly, returning to her. “If I spared you the ordeal, you might again refuse to believe me when I reported the result.”

“I wish to stay,” Myra answered, and her red-gold head went up proudly. “My presence will give the man I love courage.”

“It is a great gamble, and you, fair lady, are the stake,” said Don Carlos. “The stage is set and our fate will be decided within a few minutes.”

He nodded his cowled head, shouted some orders in Spanish to his men, and took up a position beside the whipping-post, which somewhat resembled an ancient pillory. Four men hurried to the cell in which Standish was confined, to reappear after the lapse of a few minutes with the prisoner between them.

They had stripped Standish to the waist, and he walked forward with firm step and head erect, but at the sight of the whipping-post and the furnace, and the sinister figure beside them with a cat-o’-nine-tails in his hand, he halted suddenly with an involuntary gasp, and his face went ashen.

“Cojuelo, you you can’t mean that you are going to be such a fiend as to torture me!” he burst out breathlessly. “I haven’t done you any harm. Look here, I’ll I’ll double the ransom if you’ll let me off. I’ll make it twenty thousand pounds.”

“Not for fifty thousand pounds would I forego my vengeance,” rasped the hooded figure. “Yet you have but to confess that you did agree to go away and leave the Senorita Rostrevor here, well knowing what would happen to her, you have only to tell her now that you renounce her to me, and I will let you go unharmed.”

“Don’t, Tony, don’t!” cried Myra. “Be brave, dear!”

Standish, who had not previously noticed her, jerked round his head at the sound of her voice.

“Myra, for God’s sake intercede for me,” he screamed, and began to struggle violently as his guards seized him and began to drag him towards the pillory. “Beg him to spare me!”

“Oh, Tony, don’t fail me!” cried Myra, shamed by his display of terror. “Don’t be a coward! Be brave! Be British!”

Struggling, shouting, protesting and appealing frantically, his face livid and the sweat of fear pouring down it, Standish was dragged towards the stake.

“The burning irons first, I think,” snarled Cojuelo. “The burns will make the lash more effective afterwards.”

The man beside the furnace drew from the fire a branding iron, the end of which was red-hot, and made a threatening movement. Standish squealed like a rabbit caught in a trap.

“Don’t! Don’t!” he shrieked in a frenzy of terror. “Oh, spare me, spare me! I’ll give her up. I I can’t face it. You can have her!”

“Do you still accuse Don Carlos of having lied?” demanded Cojuelo remorselessly. “Is it not true that you were willing to escape with him, or by his aid, and leave the senorita?”

“Yes, yes, it is true,” gasped Standish. “I lied to Myra to try to to save my face. Don Carlos said he would look after her. Let me go! Let me go!”

“You hear, senorita?” exclaimed Don Carlos, his voice ringing out triumphantly. “To save his own skin, your lover has renounced you.... Release the brave Englishman, my friends. The farce is over.”

Nauseated by Tony’s piteous exhibition of craven terror, Myra turned away from him in loathing and contempt as the men released him.

“Oh, you coward!” she burst out passionately. “I was so sure you would stand the test and would not fail me that I promised I would marry this devil in your presence if you were dastard enough to offer to give me to him to save your own skin. All these preparations for torture were only bluff to test your courage and your love. You have failed me, Tony, in my hour of greatest need, and I hate and despise you. I would give myself to any bandit now rather than marry you!”

“I hold you to your promise, senorita,” cried Cojuelo. “You will marry me here and now in the presence of Senor Standish.... Come hither, Padre Sancho, and perform the marriage service.”

A fat little bald-headed man, dressed in a greasy black cassock and carpet slippers, shuffled forward and addressed some questions to Myra in a wheezy voice.

“He is asking if you are willing to marry me,” Cojuelo interpreted.

“Yes, I will keep my promise and marry you in the presence of the man who has failed me,” said Myra, and flashed a glance at Standish that made him quail.

“Here, I say! I I didn’t realise it was bluff,” faltered Standish. “I’ll do anything... Cojuelo, I’ll pay you fifty thousand if only you’ll ”

“Proceed with the ceremony, Padre Sancho,” interrupted Cojuelo; and the monk opened his book and began to gabble unintelligibly in his wheezy voice. Presently he paused and addressed a question to the hooded figure.

“I will,” said Cojuelo, and took Myra’s listless hand in his own. “You Myra, will also answer ‘I will,’ when the Padre asks you. This ring, which I took from the finger of Don Carlos de Ruiz, will serve for the present.”

“Myra, for heaven’s sake ” broke in Tony Standish, but Myra paid no heed to him.

“I will,” she answered firmly, in response to the priest’s unintelligible question.

It struck her suddenly that the priest did not appear to be treating the ceremony seriously, and the thought flashed into her mind that possibly “Padre Sancho” was only one of the brigands deputed by Don Carlos to play a part, and the whole proceeding was as much bluff as had been the preparations to torture Tony Standish.

“Is he fooling me again?” wondered Myra, as Padre Sancho gabbled through the rest of the service, closed his book and raised his right hand as if bestowing a blessing, whereupon some of the brigands behind and around him began to cheer. They cheered more lustily still when their hooded chief put his arm round Myra’s shoulders with an air of possession.

“Mother Dolores will escort you to your room, Myra,” said Don Carlos. “Forgive your bridegroom for not accompanying you. I have to arrange for the release of Senor Standish.”