“It is, in a word, a difficult proposition,” he confessed. “Here I am in this house after having difficulties, trying to be a hero and rescue a damsel in distress, also her _duenna_, and the damsel refuses to be rescued.” “Then depart as you came!” the _señorita_ said. “The damsel,” he went on, scratching his head and not even looking at her, “does not fully appreciate the condition of things. She does not realise in other words, what is for her own good in this matter. The _duenna_, not having spoken, naturally leaves things to the caballero----” “I remain here, Captain Fly-by-Night,” Señora Vallejo interrupted. “And do you show what small spark of manhood you may have left by quitting these women’s quarters, where you are an uninvited guest.” “Excellent! Always insist on the proprieties, even with half a thousand red wretches within call ready to commit every crime known to man!” the caballero replied. He looked up suddenly, and the women were frightened at the expression that now came into his face. “You, _señora_, and you, _señorita_,” he went on, “say you know my reputation as Captain Fly-by-Night. Suppose I say to you, then, that I am a desperate man, that we are done with pleasantries, and that you must do as I say or expect violence? You understand me, do you not? I am done with playing. Now you must obey!” His voice was stern as he bent toward them and volleyed the words. His eyes seemed to flash in rage, and with two strides he had reached the head of the bed, and tore from it a scarf Señorita Anita had worn, and turned to approach the girl. His movements were so swift that there was no time for the woman to act. He grasped the girl around the waist, and with the scarf he stifled her scream of fright in her throat. “Not a word from you, either, _señora_!” he commanded; and began winding the scarf around the girl’s head, so that she could make no sound. He picked her up, then, and carried her to the bed and put her upon it, and in a moment had torn the bed covering to strips and tied the girl’s hands behind her back and fastened her feet together. Two frightened eyes looked up at him, a low moan came from her, but that was all. Señora Vallejo was crouched by the fireplace, half stunned with fear, clutching at the poniard. He whirled upon her and she opened her mouth to scream; but he reached her side in time to clap a hand over her lips and choke the scream back into her throat. Once she struck at him with the poniard; and he laughed lightly as he grasped her wrist, took the weapon from her, and placed it in his belt beside his own. “Listen, _señora_!” he said. “You will do as I say in everything, without making the least sound, for, by all the saints, if you as much as utter a gurgle I’ll slit your throat like I would a rabbit’s. You understand me, _señora_? I am master now. Let fear paralyse your vocal cords if you would save your life!”