“To the chapel--it is the only chance,” he said, after a time. “I pray the Governor arrives soon!” “And then--?” she asked. There was sudden fear in her heart for her caballero. Had not the Governor ordered him taken alive or dead? Where was the way out? But he had no chance to answer. Behind them a shaft of light struck into the tunnel; the shrieks came nearer. The hostiles had found the opening at last. Now they advanced swiftly, pistols ready, holding torches above their heads, crying vengeance on the caballero who had slain their leader. With the girl still clasped in his arms, he stumbled on through the tunnel, making better progress than his pursuers since he had been through it so often before. He stopped once to discharge his pistol and check them for a moment, and then staggered on, bending low where the tunnel was small, running at times, shielding the _señorita_ at the sharp turns. He stopped. Far behind were the cries of their pursuers; ahead was the din of battle. The caballero peered through the crack into the mortuary chapel and saw one wounded soldier there tying a bandage on his arm. The door to the main part of the church was almost closed. He hesitated only long enough to whisper instructions to the girl, then tugged at the section of wall so that it swung inward. With a bound he was in the chapel, his empty pistol menacing the trooper. Anita ran in behind him. “Hold!” the caballero cried. “Not a move, _señor_, else you die!” Covering the soldier with the weapon, he went back and swung the section of wall shut again. Then he whirled and advanced toward the other man, drove him ahead, hurried him through the door into the main body of the church and dropped the heavy bar. “The last stand,” he laughed, clasping the girl to him again. “Foes behind; foes ahead; here we fight it out, beloved!” They could hear the wounded soldier screeching the news to soldiers and frailes. Captain Fly-by-Night had appeared from nowhere in the mortuary chapel; Señorita Anita was with him! She was in the power of Captain Fly-by-Night! But the caballero paid scant attention to the wails of the trooper he had startled. He was working frantically to block the opening in the wall. Benches, railings, adobe blocks, huge cubes of stone he tore from their places and piled against the movable section of masonry. The hostiles would have difficulty entering that way! They heard the Indians in the tunnel screeching their anger at being thus blocked. Light from their torches came through the crack. From the main part of the church rolled the sound of volleys, the ringing of blades, groans, screams. Someone was pounding on the door of the mortuary chapel.