Standing beside the bole of a palm he looked up at the structure atop the knoll. The gate was closed, but light came over the wall, and he could hear the sound of voices raised in argument. Then there came to his ears the shrieking of an Indian, a raucous Spanish voice raised in anger and command, the sound of a lash striking into bare skin. He left the tree and crept through the shadows, avoiding the front, going to the left. Standing against the wall he listened again. “Tell us, dog!” Sergeant Cassara was shouting. “Tell us, or by the saints we’ll have your hide in strips! Be stubborn before your betters, will you?” The lash fell again; again the Indian shrieked; coarse laughter smote the air. “’Tis well we caught one of you!” the sergeant was saying now. “Sneak away like the coyotes you are, will you? Where is that camp--tell us!” “_Señor_--_señor_--I cannot tell!” the Indian screeched. “Will not, you mean! Cannot, you hound, when every gentile and neophyte within a score of miles knows of it? Where have the others gone, then? Answer me that!” “One by one they slipped away, _señor_.” “And you do not know where, eh?” “I--I cannot tell, _señor_.” “Will not, you mean?” “_Si señor!_ I _will_ not!” The Indian’s voice changed; the caballero listening by the wall knew what the change meant--stoical resignation to his fate was upon the red man now; he expected to be beaten, perhaps slain, and he was ready. “Now, by all the saints, this thing passes a jest!” the sergeant cried. “With the dogs a hundred to one against us, it is proper we should have all information, else soldiers may ride in one direction while gentiles advance from another and sweep all before them. And here is a man admitting he knows where the conspirators’ camp lies, and refusing to tell his betters. For the last time, hound, will you speak?” “I cannot tell you, _señor_!” “You realise what is to happen to you if you do not?” “It is easy to guess _señor_.” The caballero hurried on around the wall until he came to a small rear gate, used generally to take in supplies. It, too, was barred on the inside; but it was studded on the outside with heavy bolts, and the caballero, using these for footholds and handholds, made his way laboriously to the top of the wall. He raised his head carefully, and peered over. All was darkness in that corner of the enclosure. He pulled himself up and dropped over, and for an instant crouched in the shadows against the wall, listening. But no challenge rang out, and he decided the two soldiers left behind with Cassara were inside the barracks-room. Silently he walked across to the wall of the building, and silently he followed it until he could peer through a window. He looked into an officers’ room, but through the open door he could see the interior of the barracks-room proper.