First he must give Inez warning as to his intentions, so that she might not be alarmed when he quitted her side. He found her very sensible, for she realized that some such move must be adopted to get rid of the miserable sentry. "Spare him not, senor--he has doubtless taken delight in torturing my Leon--have no pity on the wretch," she whispered in his ear, with considerable warmth. Roderic had his own notion about the eternal fitness of things, and being a cool, sensible American instead of a hot blooded Spaniard, he was decidedly averse to shedding blood when such a thing might possibly be avoided. There were other ways of accomplishing the same end, this Yankee brain decided. With a few last words of caution to Inez, who was trembling all over with excitement, he left her and started upon his advance. An old Indian fighter might have been proud of the progress Roderic made. He imitated a cat creeping upon a bird, his eyes being glued upon the white garbed figure of the guard, and every movement governed by that of the man who carried the Mauser. Foot by foot he went forward. The guard was muttering to himself as he still moved restlessly from one heavy door to another. Something undoubtedly disturbed him, but it was a mystery to Roderic, who could not quite catch the words he let fall, and which might have simplified matters had he heard them. The closer he drew the more cautious he became. Everything depended on the successful issue of his plans; even his own future happiness was at stake in the matter. It may be taken for granted, therefore, that he exercised his utmost care, for after all there is no motive so positive of good results in a general way, as self interest--it makes a success of co-operative factories wherever tried. Roderic was finally in a position to lay his plans for a finish. He waited until the man's back was turned and then slipped forward to a certain dark doorway previously selected. Then he awaited the return of the sentry--awaited him as the tiger lies in cover for his advancing prey, with muscles tense and drawn, and every small nerve on the alert for the desperate charge. Ah! the fellow in pursuing his eccentric tactics had reached what appeared to be the terminus of his beat, and wheeling had started back, utterly unconscious of what lay in store for him and that each nervous step took him closer to his fate. Roderic was perfectly cool and collected--he was not in the habit of giving way to excitement and losing his advantage. As he thus lay in wait and watched the advance of the dusky figure which he had set out to overcome, he even selected the very portion of the sentry's person upon which he should throw his full force. Closer still. The man's fate hung like the sword of Damocles, as by a single hair. Roderic timed his leap with such precision that he struck the sentry totally unawares.